{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_41720/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_41720","id":"gutenberg_41720","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41720","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: History - Modern (1750+)","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Evangelistic work","Prisons"],"text":"[Illustration: _MOTHER WHEATON_]\n\n\n\n\n  PRISONS AND PRAYER\n\n  OR\n\n  A LABOR OF LOVE\n\n  BY\n\n  ELIZABETH R. WHEATON\n\n  Prison Evangelist\n\n  [Illustration: decoration]\n\n  An account of nearly Twenty-two Years of Gospel Work, seeking\n  the lost, in Prisons, Reformatories, Stockades, Rescue\n  Homes, Saloons and Dives, and on the\n  Streets, Railway Trains, etc.\n\n  [Illustration: decoration]\n\n  \"He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall\n  doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with\n  him.\" Psa. 126:6.\n\n  [Illustration: decoration]\n\n  \"For I was an hungered and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave\n  me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye\n  clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I\n  was IN PRISON, and ye came unto\n  me.\"--Matthew 25: 35, 36.\n\n  [Illustration: decoration]\n\n  CHAS. M. KELLEY\n  Tabor, Iowa.\n\n\n\n\n  COPYRIGHT, 1906,\n\n  BY\n  CHAS. M. KELLEY.\n\n\n\n\nDEDICATION.\n\n\n  To the\n  RAILROAD OFFICIALS who have so generously and cheerfully provided\n  me transportation; their EMPLOYEES, whose kindness has so many\n  times lightened the weariness of my journeys; the STATE and\n  PRISON OFFICIALS, who have heartily welcomed me and set before\n  me open doors; the THOUSANDS OF PRISONERS AND\n  OTHERS who have shown by word and deed their appreciation\n  of my efforts to help them to a better life; to the\n  many who have in any way ministered to my necessities\n  or offered an encouraging word by the way,\n  and to my SPIRITUAL CHILDREN, these pages are\n  cheerfully inscribed by\n  THE AUTHOR.\n\n\nTHE HARVEST TIME.\n\n    The seed I have scattered in springtime with weeping,\n      And watered with tears and with dews from on high,\n    Another may shout while the harvester's reaping,\n      Shall gather my grain in the sweet by and by.\n\n    CHORUS--\n\n      Over and over, yes, deeper and deeper,\n        My heart is pierced through with life's sorrowing cry,\n      But the tears of the sower and the songs of the reaper\n        Shall mingle together in joy by and by;\n      By and by, by and by, by and by, by and by,\n        Yes the tears of the sower and the songs of the reaper\n      Shall mingle together in joy by and by.\n\n    Another may reap what in springtime I've planted,\n      Another rejoice in the fruit of my pain,\n    Not knowing my tears when in summer I fainted,\n      While toiling, sad-hearted, in sunshine and rain.\n\n    The thorns will have choked and the summer sun blasted\n      The most of the seed which in springtime I've sown,\n    But the Lord who has watched while my weary toil lasted\n      Will give me a harvest for what I have done.\n\n                                                  --W. A. SPENCER\n\nWords and music copyright, John J. Hood, Philadelphia.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nDEAR READER: Over twenty years have passed since God called and\ncommissioned me to go to those that were bound. Within five years from\nthe time I entered upon the work, I had been enabled to preach the\ngospel in every state and territory and had held meetings in nearly\nevery state-prison in the United States and in the prisons in Canada\nand Mexico. My first trip to Europe was made in 1890. I have not only\nheld meetings in prison, but have endeavored to \"preach the gospel to\nevery creature\"--to those in authority, governors, prison and railroad\nofficials, and trainmen, as well as to those in churches, missions,\nprisons, hospitals, alms-houses, dives, brothels, saloons and the\nslums. In all places God has fulfilled His promise to be with me and\nhas given me evidence that my labor was not in vain in Him.\n\nWhen I was made to feel that the Lord required me to write of the\nvictories He had wrought and of the work yet waiting to be done I was\namazed and am still, though it is more than ten years since God first\ntold me to write for Him. Early left an orphan, my childhood was spent\nin the country where I had to walk two miles across the fields and\nthrough deep snows in order to get to school, and my life-work has\nbeen crippled by my lack of education. How then can I write? Yet the\ncommand of the Lord has been upon me and the cry of the needy has rung\nin my ears. Words cannot describe the cruel wrongs, the awful\ninjustice, the scenes of desolation and degradation that have come to\nmy knowledge. Much has been done, much is being done; and yet, O how\nmuch still needs to be done, in behalf of those in prison! Wrongs\nthat are indescribable still cry to God for vengeance in this our own\nland. Cruelties that are beyond the power of language to describe\n_still exist_, and the cry of the oppressed comes up to the ear of Him\nwho has declared \"Vengeance is mine, I will repay.\"\n\nOne reason I have for writing, is to show the great need of Holy Ghost\nworkers--those whose hearts God has touched--to carry the gospel to\nthose whose lives are darkened, blighted and blasted, and tell them of\na mighty deliverance from the bondage of sin, and of freedom in\nChrist.\n\nReader, if you could see the many inside prison walls going insane,\nyou would not wonder that, by the grace of God, I am determined to\nprosecute my work as I have never done before, to save these poor\nprisoners from despair, and to do with my might what my hands find to\ndo.\n\nI have kept no diary or journal and nearly all of ten years'\ncorrespondence was destroyed at one time by fire. Hence I have written\nlargely from memory, and without any attempt to give an orderly and\nconnected account of my work. I have endeavored to put before you,\ndear reader, such glimpses of the work and the field as would fairly\nillustrate that which has been done and that which needs to be done.\n\nI ask for my imperfect work your kind consideration, and trust that\nyou will overlook my many mistakes and pray God's blessing to rest\nupon the effort; and if I can only awaken in your hearts a deeper\ncompassion for lost girls and fallen men and the heart-broken friends\nwho mourn the loss of loved ones, I shall not have written in vain.\n\nIn the selection, arrangement and preparation of manuscript, I have\nbeen assisted by several friends who have been much interested in the\nwork, whose labor and patience can only be rewarded by Him whom we\nserve. Among these are Brother and Sister Shaw, of Chicago, who have\nso kindly given the introduction to the work, having full knowledge of\nits contents and ability to judge of its merits. I will also mention\nBrother and Sister Kelley, of Tabor, Iowa, who have rendered valuable\nassistance.\n\nWith many prayers and tears I send this work forth, hoping it may find\na place on your book-shelf and a corner in your heart, and that you\nand I, dear reader, may meet where there are no prison walls, iron\nbars, nor breaking hearts. And may there be gathered there with us at\nJesus' feet many of those whom we are striving to comfort and save,\nwhile together we crown our Savior Lord of all, and through an endless\neternity worship Him who gave His life a ransom for the lost--\"because\nHe loved them so.\"\n\n                                                \"MOTHER WHEATON.\"\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nThis world is, to a large extent, a great prison house. Nearly all of\nits inhabitants are prisoners surrounded by walls of sin and darkness.\nMany are bound down by the curse of rum, others by the besetting sins\nof lust, unholy temper, envy, revenge, malice, hatred, jealousy,\nprejudice, pride, covetousness, or selfishness resulting from a carnal\nmind. Out of the vast multitudes that are led captive by the devil at\nhis will, a few that have violated human law have been sentenced to\nvarious prisons and reformatories. This book has much to say about the\nmen and women behind prison walls. It records the sad story of many\nprisoners in a way that very few can read without being moved to tears\nand that will awaken sympathy in the hardest hearts. It also tells of\nthe work of God among prisoners both in this and other countries. It\nrecords some of the brightest of Christian experiences on record,\nshowing how many prisoners that have been slaves to worse than human\nlaw and have lived in greater darkness than in the prison dungeon,\nhave been made free by being translated into the light that outshines\nthe noonday sun, and how they have been enabled to live noble,\nChristian lives behind the bars.\n\nWe are well acquainted with the author, having known her for several\nyears and having had the privilege of entertaining her in our home\nmore or less during that time. This acquaintance has enabled us to\nknow something of the burden that rests upon her soul for prisoners.\nShe has doubtless spent more time in the work, visited more prisons\nand traveled farther than any other living prison worker. She has\nvisited practically all of the prisons of the United States and\nCanada and most of them many times, and twice she has crossed the sea.\nHer mission has been a mission of loving service, with but little\nfinancial reward. But the Master who laid this work upon her heart has\ngiven her rich reward for all her toil and privation and suffering,\nfor many have been converted through her instrumentality. Some have\ngone to their reward. Many others, both in and out of prison, are\nliving honest, useful lives.\n\nHad this work been written only for the hasty reader who has but a few\nhours at the most to give, much that it contains might better have\nbeen omitted; but such as these can easily select from its pages that\nwhich is most to their liking, while those who are deeply interested\nin the work of soul-saving, as well as the prisoner whose spare hours\ndrag heavily and slowly, will here find food for study and\nencouragement that will repay for many days of careful reading.\n\nIn many respects, such a work as is here represented has never been\ndone by any other person. For these hundreds of pages give but a few\nglimpses, as it were, of the work \"Mother Wheaton\" has done. We have\nassisted her in gleaning from the many hundreds of letters still in\nher possession (though much of her correspondence was destroyed by\nfire) and in arranging and preparing matter for publication. We have\nlistened as with eyes filled with tears she has told us of the needs\nof the work, and with every day thus spent we have become more deeply\ninterested in the work to which her life has been given. In a memorial\nservice it was said of the late Bishop William Taylor: \"He was not an\norganizer nor an administrator; not a statesman, in the ordinary use\nof those terms. He was rather a great religious pioneer. He blazed\npathways through unknown moral wilds, and left the work of\norganization mainly to those who might follow after.\" Such, in her\nfield of labor, has largely been the work of Mother Wheaton.\n\nNo place has been far enough away, no stockade hard enough to reach,\nno day warm enough or cold enough or stormy enough, no prison official\nor stockade captain sufficiently abusive, to discourage her when she\nfelt that the Master bade her go forward.\n\nWith a burning love for all the sinful and all the needy, she has gone\nfrom north to south and from east to west, seeking the lost as one\nseeks for hidden treasure. Through nights of weariness and days of\ntoil she has sought them and loved them and wept over them, man or\nwoman or child, as a mother weeps over and loves her own. She has\nborne their burdens and shared their sorrows--ever bringing to them\nthe cheering word, the testimony or inspiring song, the faithful\nwarning, the earnest prayer, the plain gospel message, the hearty\nhand-clasp, the loving \"God bless you.\"\n\nWe believe and pray that these pages may be greatly used of God to\nreach thousands of hearts and stir up many to carry forward the work\nso dear to her, when \"Mother Wheaton\" has crossed over to meet those\nthat are waiting to welcome her on the other side.\n\n                 Yours, in Jesus' love,\n                                                    ETTA E. SHAW.\n                                                    S. B. SHAW.\n\n  Chicago, Ill., 1906.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n  CHAPTER I.\n\n  BIOGRAPHY AND CALL TO THE WORK.\n\n  Birth--Left an Orphan--Conversion--Marriage--Sorrow--\n  Sanctification--Call to Prison Work--Family Reunion--Sketch\n  of My Life by My Brother                                          23\n\n\n  CHAPTER II.\n\n  LETTER TO MY PRISON CHILDREN.\n\n  My Limited Education--Disappointments--A Friend in Jesus          38\n\n\n  CHAPTER III.\n\n  A PLEA FOR THE PRISONER.\n\n  In the Shadow of the Wall (poem)--Letters to Prison Officers--\n  Worth While (poem)--Prejudice--A Look into the Cell--Insane\n  Prisoners--All Prisoners Not Criminal--Prepared to Die            43\n\n\n  CHAPTER IV.\n\n  A BRIEF PEN PICTURE OF PRISON LIFE.\n\n  The Buildings--Entrance--Chapel and Dining-room--Chapel\n  Service--The Cell-house--Workshops--Hospital                      59\n\n\n  CHAPTER V.\n\n  LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION AND KIND WORDS FROM GOVERNORS, PRISON\n  OFFICIALS, ETC.\n\n  From Governors--Prison Wardens--Chaplains                         67\n\n\n  CHAPTER VI.\n\n  SOME OF MY PRISON BOYS.\n\n  A Prisoner's Conversion as Shown by His Letters--A Talented\n  Young Man--Under Death Sentence--Commuted--Finally Pardoned--\n  Letters--Sentenced for Life--His Letters--Faithful Inside and\n  Outside of Prison Walls                                           87\n\n\n  CHAPTER VII.\n\n  LETTERS FROM CO-WORKERS AND MY PRISON GIRLS.\n\n  Letters from Sister Co-workers--From My Prison-bound Girls       117\n\n\n  CHAPTER VIII.\n\n  INCIDENTS IN MY PRISON WORK.\n\n  Letter from the Prisoners at Chester, Ill.--Extract of Chaplain's\n  Report--Suicide of a Prisoner--\"I Have no Friends\"--Letters\n  from Chaplain Starr--A Way Opened in Answer to Prayer--A Letter\n  from a Governor--A Woman Converted and Healed--A Change\n  Wrought--A Chaplain in My Audience--Impressed to Tarry--\n  Encouragement by the Way--Cruel Neglect--Another Suicide--Just\n  Out of Prison--Dying in Prison--Does It Pay?--Saved and Preaching\n  the Gospel--In Solitary Confinement--Crape on the Door--In a\n  Police Station--Burned in His Cell--The Innocent in Bonds--\n  Confessed Her Guilt--Under Sentence of Death--\"The Religion\n  Mother Had\"                                                      135\n\n\n  CHAPTER IX.\n\n  CONVERSION OF DESPERATE PRISONERS PREVENTS A TERRIBLE MUTINY.\n\n  Welcomed in Prison--An After-Service--Plan of the Mutiny--Havoc\n  of Sin--Letters                                                  161\n\n\n  CHAPTER X.\n\n  REMARKABLE CONVERSION AND EXPERIENCE OF GEO. H. COLGROVE.\n\n  His Own Story--Infidel Literature--Burglary and Murder--Life\n  Sentence--Conversion--Study of the Scriptures--Bible Class\n  Teacher--An Enemy Kindly Treated--A Pardon Refused--Second\n  Effort to Secure a Pardon--Letters--Final Illness and Triumphant\n  Death                                                            169\n\n\n  CHAPTER XI.\n\n  WORK IN STOCKADES AND PRISON CAMPS IN SOUTHERN STATES.\n\n  Race Question--Letters of Introduction and Recommendation--A\n  Stockade--Letter to a Governor--Reply of Prison Manager--Plea\n  for Women Convicts--Bloodhounds--Coal Mines--A Touching\n  Incident--First Meeting in a Prison Camp--Ride on Engine of\n  a Coal Train--First Railroad Pass--Ride on a Mule                187\n\n\n  CHAPTER XII.\n\n  STOCKADES AND PRISON CAMPS CONTINUED.\n\n  Novel Conveyances--Assisting a Colored Minister--Through\n  Danger Alone--Prostrate Among Prisoners--A Meeting at Day\n  Dawn--Helping to Bury a Prisoner--Wreck of a Coal Train--Sugar\n  Camps--Ride in a Cart--In a Gambling Saloon--Condition of\n  Convicts--Unjustly Condemned--Need of Reform                     212\n\n\n  CHAPTER XIII.\n\n  WORK IN FT. MADISON, IOWA, AND SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO.\n\n  My First Effort for Service in a Prison--Kindness of Officers\n  and Men--Letters from Officials--Work in Santa Fe, N. Mex.--\n  Three Christian Men Pardoned--A Forty Years' Sentence--Kind\n  Words from Governor and Superintendent                           241\n\n\n  CHAPTER XIV.\n\n  GONE HOME FROM THE SCAFFOLD.\n\n  Special Mission to Doomed Men--Indifferent but Finally\n  Converted--Letters--Mother's Prayers--Claimed to Be Innocent--\n  Hardened in Crime--Ten Men under Death Sentence--Conversion\n  of a Jewish Boy--Mysteriously Guided--In Long Expectation--\n  Sentence Commuted--A Man Deceived--Interceded for a Boy--Went to\n  the Scaffold Singing--A Prominent Official--Recent Cases         254\n\n\n  CHAPTER XV.\n\n  WORK IN CHURCHES AND MISSIONS.\n\n  Provided with Food in Answer to Prayer--A Great Revival--A\n  Man Saved from Suicide--Letters from Pastors and Others--Church\n  of the Redeemer in Baltimore--Successful Meetings--Young\n  Man Called to the Ministry--A Colored Woman Saved and\n  Preaching-- Incidents--Saved by a Hymn                           294\n\n\n  CHAPTER XVI.\n\n  PREACHING THE GOSPEL ON RAILWAY TRAINS.\n\n  Accidental Death of My Nephew--My First Trip by Rail--Experience\n  of a Railroad Man--Transportation--A Kind Conductor--Interesting\n  Services--Train Saved from Wreck--A Train in Danger--Impressed\n  to Leave the Train--Helped to Care for a Wounded\n  Man--Conductor's \"God Bless You\"--A Woman's Faith Encouraged--\n  Riding in a Parlor Car--Favor to the Railroad Company            313\n\n\n  CHAPTER XVII.\n\n  STREET AND OPEN AIR.\n\n  Poem--Permits to Hold Street Meetings--From a Missionary--My\n  First Street Meeting--A Wonderful Conversion--Became a\n  Preacher--The Blind Encouraged--Forbidden to Preach on the\n  Street--Thought They Saw a Ghost--Hurt by a Saloonkeeper--Warned\n  to Leave the City--In Jail                                       328\n\n\n  RESCUE WORK.\n\n  \"A Mother's Plea\" (poem)--A Plea for our Sisters--Drunken\n  Women and Men--Assaulted in a Dive--Attempts Suicide--A Girl\n  Saved--A Girl Rejected at a Rescue Home--Neglected by the\n  Churches--Visits to Hospitals--Kind Tributes--The Prodigal\n  Daughter (poem)                                                  349\n\n\n  CHAPTER XIX.\n\n  WORK IN CANADA AND MEXICO.\n\n  Street Meetings in Hamilton--In London, Ontario--A Girl\n  Rescued--In Kingston--Stoned in Quebec--Victory in Toronto--\n  In Victoria, B. C.--Work in Mexico--A Bull Fight--Wept with\n  Condemned Men--Attacked by a Fierce Dog--Ministered to a\n  Sufferer                                                         365\n\n\n  CHAPTER XX.\n\n  ACROSS THE SEA.\n\n  On the Ocean--In a Foreign Land--Preaching in Glasgow--My\n  Life in Danger--A Song Stops a Row--Arrested for Singing--\n  Tumult in a Dive--Mob of Drunken Women--Letter from\n  America--In Paisley--Return to America--Second Visit to\n  Europe--Experiences in London--Safe Return to America--\n  Letter from Scotland                                             372\n\n\n  CHAPTER XXI.\n\n  TRAVEL AND TOIL.\n\n  Two Nights' Service--One Weeks' Work--A Profitable Trip--Six\n  Weeks' Service--Recent Work--Another Trip                        395\n\n\n  CHAPTER XXII.\n\n  LETTERS FROM PRISONERS.                                          431\n\n\n  CHAPTER XXIII.\n\n  KIND WORDS FROM FRIENDS.\n\n  From H. L. Hastings--Mrs. H. L. Hastings--E. E. Byrum,\n  Author and Editor--Mother of a Prisoner--Prisoner's\n  Daughter--An Editor--Ex-Prisoner--Miscellaneous                  477\n\n\n  CHAPTER XXIV.\n\n  SKETCHES FROM PRESS REPORTS.                                     491\n\n\n  CHAPTER XXV.\n\n  FURNISHED UNTO EVERY GOOD WORK.\n\n  \"Who Will Man the Life Boat?\" (poem)--Adaptation Needed--The\n  Masses Not Reached--My Boy in India--Preaching the Gospel\n  in the Pesthouse--How the Lord Provides--Miscellaneous\n  Incidents                                                        530\n\n\n  CHAPTER XXVI.\n\n  SELECTIONS FROM MY SCRAPBOOK.\n\n  Author of Flower Mission Day--Flower Day at the Prison--Lines\n  by a Prisoner--Take This Message to My Mother--Not Lonely\n  Now--Jesus Is Looking On--How God Calls Missionaries Out of\n  Prison Cells--Outside the Prison Walls--If We Knew--Little\n  Graves--The Mother's Warning--Harry's Remorse--\n  Twenty-Thirty-Four--His Mother's Song--Perfect Peace--Sweet\n  Revenge--No Telephone in Heaven--A True Hero--Perfect Through\n  Faith--The Kid--Charged with Murder--Mother's Face--Only\n  Sixteen--The Dress Question                                      547\n\n  SONGS.\n\n  1. \"Life's Railway to Heaven.\"\n  2. \"Meet Me There.\"\n  3. \"God Bless My Boy.\"\n  4. \"The Great Judgment Morning.\"\n  5. \"My Name in Mother's Prayer.\"\n  6. \"Over There.\"\n  7. \"This Way.\"\n  8. \"She's More to Be Pitied.\"\n  9. \"Some Mother's Child.\"\n  10. \"Tell My Dear Old Mother.\"\n  11. \"When the Death-bell Shall Toll.\"\n  12. \"The End of the Way.\"\n\n\n  APPENDIX.                                                        596\n\n  The Personnel of Prison Management. By Warden C. E. Haddox.\n  Meditations of a Prisoner.\n  Discourse on \"The Agony in the Garden.\" By a Prisoner.\n  Directory of Prisons and Reformatories.\n\n\n  ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n  Frontispiece\n  Ohio State Prison                                                 27\n  Family Group                                                      34\n  John Ryder                                                        34\n  Giving the Boys Counsel                                           42\n  With Insane Prisoners                                             52\n  Prisoners Marching                                                58\n  Prison Chapel and Dining Room                                     60\n  Corridor in Cell House                                            62\n  New Federal Prison at Ft. Leavenworth, Kan.                       66\n  The Old Tombs, New Tombs, New York                                80\n  Personal Work                                                     86\n  Administration Building, Mitchelville, Iowa                      115\n  Campus and Play-ground, Girls' Industrial School, Mitchelville,\n        Ia.                                                        116\n  A Chaplain's Residence                                           118\n  Women's Prison, Allegheny, Pa.                                   121\n  Group of Girls in an Industrial School                           132\n  Southern Illinois State Prison at Chester                        134\n  Interior of Chapel, Dining Apartment, and Row of Cells,\n        Chester, Ill.                                              160\n  Geo. H. Colgrove                                                 169\n  Smelter and Work Shops, Chester, Ill.                            186\n  Woman Convict at Work in the Field                               195\n  Convicts Getting Out Coal                                        198\n  Prison at Santa Fe, N. Mex.                                      240\n  Church of the Redeemer, Baltimore, Md.                           303\n  A Railroad Engine                                                312\n  Miss Josephine Cowgill                                           329\n  Mother Prindle                                                   361\n  State Prison, Joliet, Ill.                                       394\n  Prison at Deer Lodge, Mont.                                      397\n  Criminal Insane Hospital, Chester, Ill.                          408\n  Prison at Huntsville, Tex.                                       410\n  Group of Delegates at Prison Congress, 1904                      414\n  Industrial Reform School, Hutchinson, Kan.                       416\n  Industrial School, Whittier, Cal.                                418\n  Prisons at Jackson, Mich., Deer Lodge, Mont., and Folsom, Cal.   430\n  A Ward in Prison Hospital                                        445\n  Kitchen and Dining Room                                          455\n  Drug Department in Prison Hospital                               475\n  Mother Wheaton                                                   490\n  Ruthena, India Famine Boy                                        535\n  State Prison, Anamosa, Iowa                                      546\n\n\n\n\n      \"Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer\n    Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice\n    Rise like a fountain for me night and day.\n    For what are men better than sheep or goats\n    That nourish a blind life within the brain,\n    If, knowing God, they lift not the hands of prayer\n    Both for themselves and those who call them friend?\n    For so the whole round earth is every way\n    Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.\"\n\n                                                    --_Tennyson._\n\n\n\n\nPRISONS AND PRAYER\n\nOR\n\nA LABOR OF LOVE.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAPTER I.\n\n                     Biography and Call to the Work.\n\n\nI was born May 10, 1844, in Wayne County, Ohio. My parents, John and\nMary Van Nest Ryder, were honest, hard working people, and were\nearnest Christians. One year after my birth, my father died, leaving\nmy mother with five little children--three boys and two girls. Mother\nmarried again and had two children. The little girl was buried the day\nbefore mother died. My half-brother, J. P. Thompson, still lives in\nOhio. Five years after my father's death my mother followed him to the\nbetter land, and I, with the rest, was left an orphan. Well do I\nremember the night my mother died. She was so troubled about leaving\nher children alone in the world, but continued long in earnest prayer\nuntil she had the assurance that God would care for them, and then she\nsang the old-time hymn,\n\n    \"There is a fountain filled with blood,\n      Drawn from Immanuel's veins,\"\n\nand went shouting home to glory. What a lasting impression is made on\na child's heart by the life or death of a godly father or mother!\n\nBy mother's death I was almost crazed with grief and could not be\ncomforted. At her grave I was separated from my brothers and sister,\nand went to live with a family to whom mother had given me before her\ndeath. Some time after this, the family moving away, I went to live\nwith my grandparents, under whose careful religious training I\nremained until married. I received little education, as my\nopportunities were very limited.\n\nFrom my earliest recollection I was deeply convicted of sin. This\nconviction followed me until at the age of twelve years I gave my\nheart to God and received the witness that I was His child. I united\nwith the people called Methodists and tried to walk in the light I\nhad, until God called me into His vineyard.\n\n\n                             MARRIAGE.\n\nAt the age of eighteen I was married to Mr. J. A. Wheaton. We lived\nhappily together, but in two years I was called to give up not only my\ndear husband, but also our little baby boy. They were buried in one\ngrave, and I was again left alone in the world. O my breaking heart! I\nwas in despair! I did not know then God's wonderful comforting power\nas I now do. I was scarcely more than a nominal Christian, a\nfashionable proud woman, moving in high society, left to face the\nbattle of life alone. To try to drown my sorrow I rushed deeper into\nsociety and fashion--only to be plunged into deeper despair. What I\nsuffered during those years is beyond the power of tongue or pen to\ndescribe. My anguish of heart and mind were so great that at times\nreason almost tottered on its throne. And had it not been for the\ngoodness and mercy of God in sending me timely aid through true\nChristian friends, I should never have been able to have triumphed\nover it all.\n\nSoon after I was converted, I felt the call of God to His service. I\nlonged to be a missionary. My heart especially went out to the\ncolored people and the Indians, and to the poor unfortunate ones of my\nown sex. Their sufferings touched my heart, and it was this class with\nwhich I did some of my first prison and missionary work in after\nyears. But in those days there was very little encouragement to a\nwoman to do such work. O how those who are called of God now should\nappreciate their privileges!\n\nThough hindered and discouraged, this call did not leave me. I lived\nin the church for years, always doing my part in church work. I was\nproud and vain, but knew no better; yet I longed to be all the Lord's.\n\n\n                         SANCTIFICATION.\n\nSeveral years after my conversion I heard of holiness or entire\nconsecration to God, and the baptism of the Holy Spirit for service.\nAfter this, for about ten years, I was under conviction for a clean\nheart, seeking for a while and then growing careless, receiving little\nhelp from the formal professors around me. As I counted the cost, at\ntimes it seemed too great. I knew it meant to give up fashionable\nsociety, home, friends, reputation and all: and to take the way of the\nlowly Nazarene. I heard at this time of a holiness meeting about forty\nmiles from home, which I attended. Here I heard the pure gospel\npreached, and light shone upon my soul. I saw that none but the pure\nin heart could see God in peace. After wrestling in prayer until about\nthree o'clock in the morning, I seemed held by an invisible power,\npure and holy, and was so filled with awe that I feared to speak or\nmove. Soon I heard a wonderful sound, soft, sweet and soothing, like\nthe rustle of angels' wings. Its holy influence pervaded my whole\nbeing; a sound not of earth, but distinctly audible to both myself and\nthe sister who was in the same room! I listened enraptured. I feared\nit was death, and my breath grew shorter and shorter. I did not move\nnor open my eyes. Presently Jesus stood before me, and O the wonderful\nlook of love--so far above the love of mortals, so humble, meek and\npleading! In the tender voice of the Holy Spirit came these words:\n\"Can you give up all and follow me? Lay your weary, aching head upon\nmy breast. I will never leave you nor forsake you. Lo, I am with you\nalway even unto the end of the world.\" I was enabled by the Holy\nSpirit to say, \"Yes, Lord Jesus.\" I knew it was Jesus. When I said\n\"Yes, Lord,\" the power of God fell upon me, soul and body, and I was\nbathed in a sea of glory. When I had recovered from my rapture, Jesus\nhad vanished as silently as He came; but the blessing and power\nremained. The sister whispered and asked, \"Did you hear that sound?\"\nAnd then she told me that this was for my benefit. This occurred\nNovember 11, 1883. That day the people looked at me and wondered,\nseeing the great change God had wrought in me by His power. The night\nfollowing we had an all-night meeting. Again God spoke to me by His\nHoly Spirit, saying, \"Go and honor my Son's name, and I will go with\nyou.\" I prayed, \"O Lord, if this is Thy voice, speak once more.\" The\nsame words came again. I obeyed and God did most wonderfully reveal\nHimself to me. I knew I was called to His service and to work for lost\nsouls.\n\n[Illustration: STATE PRISON, COLUMBUS, OHIO.]\n\n\n                       MY CALL TO PRISON WORK.\n\nThe question is often asked me, \"How did you become interested in this\nwork, and learn to understand the needs of the prisoner?\" It was\nthrough this call from God. None of my relatives or friends were ever\nconvicted of crime. When I was a young woman I attended the state fair\nat Columbus, Ohio, and with a delegation visited the state-prison at\nthat place. While waiting for a guide to show us through the prison a\nyoung man was brought in by an officer. I saw him searched, and later\nas the heavy iron doors closed behind him with a clang, my sympathies\nwere aroused. While being shown through the prison I saw this young\nman with his hair close cut, dressed in prisoners' garb, placed by the\nside of hardened criminals. There my first interest was awakened to\ntry to make the burdens lighter for the prison-bound. As we were\nleaving the prison I noticed some small articles which had been made\nby the inmates in their spare moments. Among these I saw and was\nespecially impressed with a miniature statue of a prisoner dressed in\nstripes, holding in one hand a ball and chain, the other hand shading\nthe eyes. Upon the pedestal of the statue were these words, \"What\nshall the harvest be?\" I shall never forget the impression then made\nupon my mind. It is still fresh in my memory.\n\nYears after this, shortly after my commission to preach the gospel, as\nI was traveling one night to reach an appointment, stopping at a\nstation in Iowa to change cars, three prisoners in handcuffs, who were\nbeing taken to the state-prison, were brought in. My heart was moved\nwith deep compassion for them. Many were curiously inspecting them, as\nif they thought they had no tender feelings. Approaching these men, I\ngave them my hand, saying, \"I am sorry for you, but God can help you\nin this hour of trial,\" and I tried to cheer them, and told them I\nwould sometime visit them in the prison if I could. I did not then\nknow I was so soon to enter upon my mission. But the burden of those\nin prison kept coming heavier upon me. I told my friends I must go and\n\n\n                 PREACH THE GOSPEL TO PRISONERS\n\nbut they for a time thought me almost crazy. But as one of old, I\nfelt that \"Woe is me if I preach not the Gospel.\" So I gladly obeyed\nthe divine call and went forward.\n\nBut I was not led into this work by any morbid sentimentalism or\nenthusiasm. These would have worn off when the novelty was gone. No,\nthis work was given me of God, who Himself laid the burden of the\nconvict world upon my heart. Day and night there came up before me the\ncry of despair from inside prison walls--the wail of woe from those in\ndungeons whose hearts were breaking and whose minds were shattered and\nwhose souls were lost in despair, and the call came direct from the\nmouth of the Lord, \"Go and stand in the breach! Tell them of a\nSavior's love--of a way of escape through the blood of Jesus Christ,\nwho is mighty to save and strong to deliver them from the snares of\nthe enemy that has sought to destroy them soul and body. Tell them\nthere is deliverance for the captive. Tell them there is consolation\nin the gospel of Christ for those who are heart-broken and forsaken\nand forgotten by all but an omnipotent God. Tell them that God lives\nand rules and reigns in heaven and is able to save to the uttermost\nand to comfort in their dying hours with the hope of eternal life\nbeyond this vale of tears.\"\n\nBut how could I go? The Lord Himself showed me how to go and where to\ngo and that I was to leave results to Him and He would give the\nincrease--that He would multiply the bread and fish for the hungry\nmultitudes--He would feed the famished souls to whom He sent me, just\nas when He walked this sin-cursed earth--that He was the same\nyesterday, today and forever. I saw that my life must be entirely and\nforever surrendered to the Lord for His service, and that my future\nwas to be left entirely in the hands of the Master whose I am and\nwhom I serve.\n\nThus the call came day after day and night after night until I believe\nI should have gone insane had I not then and there yielded my time and\ntalent, all I had or ever would have, to the service of Christ to go\njust when and where He would have me go, do as He would have me do,\nand trust Him for my support. I was shown that I would never come to\nwant. I was made to understand that these poor unfortunates in prison\nwere just as dear to God's heart as I was and that souls would be\nrequired at my hands were I to fail to comply with the commission to\ngo and lift up the fallen and comfort the dying and relieve those\ndistressed in body and mind. I was made to know that there was power\nin prayer and that God could save the very lowest criminal or the\nworst woman on earth and by the transforming influence of the Holy\nSpirit and the cleansing blood of Jesus, save, purify and sanctify and\nlift them up even within the pearly gates of heaven; and that instead\nof devils in human form, they could be made saints that could take up\nthe glad refrain unto Him that had redeemed them and washed them in\nhis own blood and made them kings and priests unto God.\n\nYes, God called me. And His name shall be exalted through all eternity\nfor what He has done for me and through me during all these years. His\nhas been the hand that fed, clothed and supported me. Never has God\nfailed me in this pilgrim journey and He has supplied all my needs. My\nheart goes out in gratitude and thanksgiving while I write, for all He\nhas done for me. O, the heights and depths, lengths and breadths of\nHis boundless love for lost humanity! How wonderfully has He led me!\nHow His guiding hand, His protecting care have been over me! Amid\ndiscouragements, disappointments and misunderstandings God has given\nme victory through the blood of our precious, loving Savior; and I\nknow that He is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all we can ask\nor think.\n\nWhen I saw the criminal at the bar of justice, I was reminded that we\nmust all soon appear at the judgment bar of God. Then I saw that the\nLord wanted me to tell of a Mighty Deliverer from the sins of\nintemperance, unbelief, skepticism, infidelity, covetousness,\nlicentiousness and hypocrisy. My eyes were opened to see that\nthousands of poor helpless souls were drifting to their eternal doom\nwithout God and without hope, and that ofttimes in their hours of most\ndesperate need there was no one to help, no one to point them to the\nblessed Savior and to really snatch them as \"brands from the burning.\"\n\nThen I took courage and said, \"Yes, Lord, I will go and do my best to\nhelp save them from destruction and an eternity in hell.\" Since then I\nhave spent more than twenty years of constant toil among the masses\nand have reason to declare that God has given me success beyond what I\ncould have thought possible.\n\nMultitudes have been saved, representing all ranks and stations of\nlife. Many are today singing the songs of the redeemed with the\nglorified hosts in the other world, who were counted by many to be\nbeyond redemption, already doomed and lost forever.\n\nFor such I have taken courage and have pleaded before the Lord His\nwritten Word, asking for their soul's salvation; and now they are\nforever with the Lord. O faithless one, is there anything too hard for\nthe Lord? And has He not told us \"All things are possible to him that\nbelieveth\" and \"Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out\"\nand that \"if we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us\nour sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness\"? During these\nyears that I have stepped out on His promises I have proved that His\nword never fails. It is faith in the living God which brings results\nin the salvation of immortal souls. Never have I doubted God's power\nto save the vilest person, and now I want to tell, for His glory, just\na little of what God has wrought as well as show something of what\nneeds to be done. Bless the Lord, O my soul, for a faith prompted of\nthe Spirit that will not waver--a confidence in God which takes no\ndenial but cries \"It must be done.\" In answer to such a faith,\ncriminals of the deepest dye have been awakened and saved and women of\nthe worst possible character have been converted and reformed and\npurified, and some have been set apart for the service of God and have\ndone a mighty work. Others, as we have said, have gone to swell the\ngrand, triumphant strain around the throne of God, where angels and\narchangels unite to make all heaven resound with the praises of our\nKing--among those of whom it is said, \"These are they which came up\nthrough great tribulation and have washed their robes and made them\nwhite in the blood of the Lamb.\" After I see the King in His beauty,\nclothed in majesty and glory and power, I want to look in the faces of\nthose whom God has used me to help, who have come up from inside\nprison walls and from haunts of sin--yea, from the scaffold\nitself--those who have died in the triumphs of a living faith,\nvictorious over death, hell and the grave.\n\nSince my call to the work of the Lord He has caused many homes to be\nopened to me and has given me many very dear friends. Among those of\nearlier years were dear Brother and Sister H. L. Hastings, of Boston,\nwho kindly gave me a home and cared for me in sickness and special\ntime of need. And in later years are those at the Missionary Training\nHome at Tabor, Iowa, with whom I have made my headquarters since 1895.\nI would specially mention Mrs. Hattie Worcester Kelley, who had a call\nfrom God to assist me in prison work and traveled some with me until\nher health failed; also Mrs. Georgia Worcester and her husband, and\nher father, Elder Weavers, who is president of the Home; with their\nfaithful helpers in charge and assisting in the work, who have given\nme a hearty welcome among them.\n\nIt was here I became more directly interested in foreign missionary\nwork. I have at different times taken with me in my prison and slum\nmission work several of the missionaries now in foreign lands. Among\nthese are Mr. and Mrs. Wm. Worcester, now in Africa, whom I\naccompanied on their way as far as London; Grace Yarrett, recently\nsailed for India, and a number of others.\n\n        FAMILY REUNION AFTER A SEPARATION OF FIFTY-TWO YEARS.\n\nThe following from a paper published in Elkhart, Ind., December, 1902,\nunder the above heading, will explain itself:\n\n     J. M. Ryder of Indianapolis, Ind.; Emanuel Ryder of Bryan, O.;\n     Elizabeth Ryder Wheaton, prison evangelist, and Lida Ryder\n     Hoffman of this city met in a family reunion Dec. 8, after a\n     separation of fifty-two years, this being the first time in all\n     these years that the brothers and sisters, who were left orphans\n     in early childhood, have been together. * * * The brothers and\n     sisters sat for a group picture as a memento of the day, and left\n     for their different missions and homes, not likely to all meet\n     again this side of the great River.\n\n[Illustration: J. M. RYDER, MRS. E. RYDER WHEATON, EMANUEL RYDER, MRS.\nLIDA RYDER HOFFMAN.]\n\n[Illustration: JOHN RYDER, DECEASED.]\n\nI also give the reader a sketch written by my brother and published\nin his home paper at Bryan, O., some years since.\n\n     Like Moses and the prophets of old; like Jesus and his disciples;\n     like Martin Luther and John Wesley, and a host of other great\n     lights who have been chosen at different times to be teachers and\n     leaders of the children of earth, so in like manner and like\n     purpose was Elizabeth Ryder Wheaton chosen.\n\n     Her chief mission has been to the inmates of jails and\n     penitentiaries, reformatories and the lowly outcasts in the\n     houses of perdition, among people who never find room in the\n     pews.\n\n     Unconnected with church or other organization, but aided by an\n     angel band, a Christ love, great charity, force of character that\n     knew not fear where duty called, she has worked for the uplifting\n     of the fallen.\n\n     For twenty years she has toiled and struggled in her great life\n     work, giving her teachings, her songs and her prayers, shedding\n     tears of love and sympathy for the poor souls in the bondage of\n     sin.\n\n     For twenty years she has traveled up and down her home land and\n     several foreign countries.\n\n     The world her country, to do good her religion, giving her light,\n     her life, wherever the most needed; never stopping, except from\n     sickness or exhaustion from overwork; often meeting friends on\n     the long and rugged road who gave her sympathy, shelter and food;\n     at other times the floor her couch and but little to eat--but\n     whether good or bad conditions, always thankful.\n\n     In her chosen work, in the past twenty years, no person has done\n     more good or has had so much influence in causing people to lead\n     better lives, to quit sinning, to get out of hell and enjoy the\n     happiness that follows from leading conscientious, truer lives.\n\n     Her good intentions, her words of warning and sympathy, her sweet\n     soul songs of love, her prayers in angelic power, have moved the\n     people outside of the churches in the different avocations and\n     walks of life as they had never been moved before, the masses\n     perceiving by subtle agency that here was a person deserving\n     love, respect and honor.\n\n     She had great influence with the employees of the different\n     railway companies, the good-will of the superintendents of many\n     of the great railway lines of the country, frequently getting\n     passes from New York City to San Francisco and return, a\n     distance of seven thousand miles, for herself and companion.\n\n     She has spoken in more reformatories, jails and penitentiaries,\n     and, I believe, done more good, unconnected with any\n     organization, than any other in the twenty years.\n\n                           HER LIFE HISTORY.\n\n     It is too long a story to attempt to go into details--to tell of\n     her trials, hardships and sickness; to tell of her individual\n     successes, as well as her successes when she has swayed great\n     bodies of people, moving the half of them to tears, causing them\n     to have higher thoughts, better motives, and to bless the hour\n     she was among them; or of how she entered the southern stockades\n     alone, even when warned by the Warden that her life might be\n     taken, and in ten minutes had the inmates as tractable as little\n     children, where the officials would not enter, except in a body\n     and thoroughly armed; how she stood her ground when menaced by\n     drunken western desperadoes; or of the times she divided her\n     raiment and her scant purse with the destitute, and the many\n     times she escaped great danger by being forewarned, etc.\n\n     Bereft of both parents at the age of five years, and cared for by\n     cold and indifferent strangers, she misses the mother's love,\n     guidance, sympathy and protection.\n\n     When she started out on her mission she left a good home with all\n     the substantials and many of the luxuries of life, with but\n     little education, without money or friends, alone to travel\n     unbeaten paths, to do a work that no one had ever tried before;\n     untrained in the great work she was to follow, but impelled by a\n     higher Spirit force she could not resist. \"Do this work. I will\n     be with you to the end. When great troubles come, I will be your\n     shield and your helper. I will warn you of great danger. I will\n     protect your life. You will gather many sheaves, and, when you\n     are through with earth, have a high place in the heavenly abode.\"\n\n     Whenever needed, the angel band assists her to say the right\n     words for the time and occasion, according to perceptions and\n     conceptions of the people addressed.\n\n     She is gifted with a voice that is always musical, clear and\n     distinct, and of such compass that it can be heard a mile, or\n     down to the minor notes, but always with the pathos that touches\n     the tender chords of the soul.\n\n     Now she is old, broken in health and strength. Soon she must lay\n     her weary body down, a willing sacrifice for the lowest children\n     of earth.\n\n     And now with this brief outline of the work, the life and the\n     powerful soul magic of Elizabeth Ryder Wheaton, I close.\n\n                Respectfully,\n                                              EMANUEL RYDER,\n                                   Brother of Mrs. E. R. Wheaton.\n\n\n\n\n                            CHAPTER II.\n\n                   A Letter to My Prison Children.\n\n\nYou, dear ones, are my especial care and have been for over twenty\nlong years; and your eternal good will continue in a sense to be first\nin my thoughts while life lasts.\n\nMy own childhood was lonely and desolate. As I have already told you,\nmy father died when I was one year old, and mother died when I was\nonly six. I was taken from my mother's grave by an old man who had,\nwith his wife, asked mother for me before she died. My stepfather went\nto law with my grandfather, who was guardian for myself and sister,\nfor my father's fortune, and the suit was carried from one court to\nanother until all was gone and we little children were penniless.\n\nSister and I were reared by our grandparents, and were given a very\nlimited education. We were taught to work as rigidly as if we were\npaupers. The experience was hard but I can now see how good it was for\nme in after years to know how to do all kinds of work and be able to\ndo with my might what my hands found to do.\n\nAll my life I have known much of SORROW AND DISAPPOINTMENT. It has\nseemed that I have never been allowed to keep long anything that I\nloved. When I was a child, my pets would sicken and die, and the\nfriends that I loved best would either move away from me or die; and\nmy heart was being continually crushed and broken by these trials.\n\nI loved to learn and was passionately fond of music, but I was not\npermitted to gratify my desires in either direction. Why all this was\ntrue, I know not, unless it was that I might learn deeper lessons of\nsympathy and compassion for others that are in trouble.\n\nPerhaps, dear ones, because of these very experiences I can feel more\ndeeply and tenderly for you and I want to tell you that amid all the\nsorrows of earth I have found _one Friend_ that has never forgotten or\nforsaken me and that has promised never to leave me. _And this same\nJesus loves you._ If you but give Him your hearts He will never fail\nyou. Though all the world should forsake and despise you, Jesus loves\nyou just the same.\n\nIt is He that has put into my heart this love for you and your souls'\nsalvation that I cannot explain; this love that grows deeper and\nstronger and that can only be made plain in the judgment. He has\ntaught me to feel for you when you are forsaken and forgotten, when\neven friends turn away because you are doomed to the prison cell, the\nstripes, and even the scaffold.\n\nOften you are misunderstood and misjudged, and sometimes you grow\nbitter towards every one, and sometimes you censure your best friends.\nI plead with you to look on the bright side. Think of all God has done\nfor you and how wonderful it is that He loves you with all your sins,\nthat He loves your precious, immortal souls.\n\nYou are my children. For Jesus' sake, and yours, I am a homeless\nwanderer on earth. I have given up home and friends and have gone into\nthe darkest places of earth, and have endured hardships and faced\ndanger of every kind. I have endured untold sorrow of mind and heart.\nI have wept and prayed night and day, and for you I have sacrificed\nall.\n\nBut dear ones, notwithstanding all this, I am happy in the love of\nJesus. His love is everything to my heart. His love and sympathy is\nenough for me, and I know that He is able to provide all that I need.\nHe has kept me nearly sixty years, and I am sure that He will not now\nforsake me.\n\nLet this encourage you, dear prisoners, to know that God loves and\ncares for you. When the way looks the darkest, when all hope fails,\nwhen the last friend has forsaken you, then look up to Jesus and\nbelieve His word. I know your trials are hard to bear. I think of you\nas you leave the jail for the penitentiary with the handcuffs on and\nthe sheriff and the deputy guarding you so closely, and the world\nagainst you. I think of you as the prison doors close behind you. I\nthink of you in your loneliness as the days and months and perhaps\nyears go by, and again I say, yes, I know your trials are hard to\nbear. But look up through the dark clouds and remember that God lives\nand that He loves you. In your little lonely prison cell He is with\nyou and is waiting to save you. Do not conceal your sins, for God's\nWord says, \"He that covereth his sin shall not prosper; but whoso\nconfesseth and forsaketh them shall find mercy.\"\n\nLet the past be cleansed by the blood of Jesus. If you trust Him, He\nhas promised to separate your sins as far from you as the east is from\nthe west. Do not rest until His Spirit tells you this is done. Then,\n\"forgetting the things that are behind,\" press forward to those things\nthat are before.\n\nObey the rules. Show by your daily life that you intend to do right,\nthe very best you know. If those in authority over you seem to be\nunkind or unjust, bear what comes as brave soldiers. Even inside of\nprison walls you can win glorious victories over self and sin.\n\nThere is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth. I seek to show\nyou the way to the kingdom of heaven, where there is no more\ntemptation, no sin, no sorrow, no pain; to the place where Jesus has\ngone to prepare a home for those who love Him, follow Him and trust\nHim.\n\nMy heart yearns over you in your sad exile from wife, children,\nmother, father, husband, brother, sister, friends. Truly the way of\nthe transgressor is hard.\n\nBut, my prison children, I beg of you do not go from one prison to\nanother. Flee from sin. I do not and dare not smooth over your sins.\nProve yourselves worthy of the confidence of good people. Give God\nyour hearts and be true to Him and He will not forsake you.\n\nSome of you are doomed to the scaffold! How long, O Lord, how long\nmust such things be in a Christian land? O, that I had the power to\nabolish capital punishment! But I will do all I can to help you\nprepare for death. Jesus loves you. He was taken from prison and\nexecuted as a criminal. He was innocent, yet He suffered death for a\nguilty world. He was tempted in all points like as we are, yet without\nsin. \"And being tempted, He is able to succor them that are tempted.\"\nAnd though you pass through the valley of the shadow of death, if you\nbut trust Him, He will go with you and you need fear no evil.\n\n[Illustration: GIVING THE BOYS COUNSEL.]\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER III.\n\n                      A Plea for the Prisoner.\n\n\n                     IN THE SHADOW OF THE WALL.\n\n                          BY OLLA F. BEARD.\n\n     (The writer of this poem was a personal acquaintance and friend.\n     At the time the poem was written her father was warden of the\n     penitentiary at Fort Madison, Iowa, and she took great interest\n     in his work.--E. R. W.)\n\n    Oh, those wond'rous gloomy walls!\n    What a chill their shadow calls\n    To creep and tingle through our veins!\n    Moving all our soul contains\n      Of pity for the woes within--\n    Those who move within this pall,\n      Those who bear a load of sin,\n    In the shadow of that wall.\n\n    Yes, you think their lot is hard;\n    So do all you can t'retard\n    Their sad downward course in time,\n    And save them from a greater crime.\n      But pause and come with me to view\n    Various pictures in the hall\n      Of the innocent and true,\n    In the shadow of this wall.\n\n    There's a mother, good and true,\n    With a face of palest hue;\n    Eyes are dimmed and faint to-day,\n    With their brightness washed away\n      By the tears she's nightly shed;\n    Yet she does not fail to call\n      Blessings on her dear boy's head,\n    In the shadow of the wall.\n\n    There's a father, too, bowed o'er\n    With age, and his head is hoar.\n    Ah! it surely broke his heart\n    With his honored name to part.\n      Now instead of his boy's arm,\n    A cane-stalk keeps him from a fall,\n      As he walks about his farm,\n    In the shadow of the wall.\n\n    There's a wife, too, in the gloom,\n    Yet within her heart there's room\n    For the one whose name she bears;\n    She will share e'en now his cares.\n      Vows were said to God above,\n    And, tho' friends forget to call,\n      She will keep her vow of love,\n    In the shadow of the wall.\n\n    There are children, bright and gay,\n    Now at school and now at play;\n    Why do playmates push them off,\n    Only at their tears to scoff?\n      Can innocence, then, guilty be?\n    Why are they shunned, each one and all?\n      Ah! these children e'en we see,\n    In the shadow of the wall.\n\n    And O, for shame! to scorn some one\n    For the deed another's done;\n    For their road is hard at best;\n    They should never once have guessed,\n      From the things you do and say,\n    That you once those facts recall--\n      How they're living day by day\n    In the shadow of the wall.\n\n    But a word we'd say for him\n    Who inhabits those walls dim:\n    Shun him not; help if you can--\n    Let him try to be a man.\n      When he's paid now for his sin,\n    Let not scorn bring other falls,\n      Just because he once has been\n    In the shadow of the walls.\n\n    He has yet a heart, tho' scarred;\n    He has yet a soul, tho' marred;\n    And he has to live and try\n    Till his time shall come to die.\n      Sweet Charity, that suffereth long,\n    Let us now as guard install.\n      She will lead him from the wrong--\n    From the shadow of the wall.\n\n    We would not pet the sin and crime;\n    Let reproof fall in its time.\n    But reproof should have an end,\n    When the sinner tries to mend!\n      Give him every chance you can--\n    Lend a helping hand to all;\n      Lead the woman or the man\n    From the shadow of the wall.\n\n\n                     A LETTER TO PRISON OFFICERS.\n\nDEAR PRISON MANAGERS: You and I are trying to help the prisoners to a\nbetter life. We want to elevate, to lift up these men and women to a\nhigher plane of existence. How are you to proceed? What are you to do,\nis the question. How are you to command the respect of those under\nyou? Just where to draw the line, and how to enforce discipline? What\nadvantage will you give to the men who are striving to obey rules, and\ndo what is right? Something must be done, and done soon. The criminal\nclasses must be reached, reformed, saved and sent out of prison better\nprepared to face the world and the temptations which will be thrust\nupon them at every turn. Great responsibility rests upon you. Many of\nyou are doing nobly and accomplishing great good.\n\nThere is hope for every prisoner. You can reach them by kindness.\nBrutality will never accomplish anything in the way of prison reform.\nBy such a course a man is often turned out of prison a demon, a fiend\nin human form, or an idiotic criminal.\n\nBut to make him a good man, a noble creature, as God intended he\nshould be, he must have kindness shown him. Be _firm_ and _honorable_\nin all your dealings with the convict, for he has his rights, and they\nshould be respected if we are ever going to make the prison world\nbetter.\n\nLet us ask God for help to know how to reach the manhood, the\nwomanhood, the better nature in the creature God has seen fit in His\nwise providence to make just a little lower than the angels, in His\nown likeness and image. He intended all should be free and equal, but\nthe people license the saloon, the gambling den and the brothel to\ndegrade their brothers and sisters. Some say these are necessary\nevils! I say never, never! Let there be better conditions.\n\nThere is hope for the sinner if we only get the Holy Spirit to teach\nus how to reach him. I never go into the presence of convicts without\nearnest prayer to God to give me wisdom, and the Holy Spirit to teach\nand guide me what to say and sing, and how to reach their hearts. God\nhas given me what success I have had in helping the criminal classes,\nin giving hope to the discouraged and in relieving the minds of some\nwho were partially deranged. Oh, this wholesale slaughter of men's\nminds! It is horrible. It is heart-rending. And yet some go right on\ncommitting the greatest crime against these men, by robbing them of\ntheir reason which God intended them to enjoy as their birthright.\n\nWhich is the greater crime, the whipping post and the lash with all\ntheir attendant horrors and misery, or the iron rule that crushes out\nall hope in the name of discipline? I believe in law and order, and\nthat men must be in subjection to rules and regulations. I always urge\nupon them implicit obedience and subjection to the rules of the\nprison. But these should be reasonable and humane.\n\nWhat you and I need is to know our man and then we will know how to\ndeal with him. Study human nature as well as the law, and study the\nlaw of the all-wise God in the Bible and see if you will not have a\nclear conscience as well as a clear brain to manage and control those\nunder your direction.\n\nI know prisons that are regulated entirely by kindness, and oh, the\nblessed, restful, quieting influence there is there, and scarcely any\ninsane. All are satisfied with the treatment they receive and they are\nwilling to die for their officers. I know these things, for I am\nbehind the scenes.\n\nAfter long years of service as a prison missionary, in nearly all the\nstate prisons in all the states and territories, I find only an ever\nincreasing desire to be a worker together with Christ in reaching the\nmasses of prisoners who are incarcerated in our state, county and city\nprisons. My success has largely been due to my sincere and intense\ndesire to lead them to a better life here and life eternal in heaven,\nand to the victory gained over myself to never let anything or anybody\nprevent my doing all I could for the prisoner, as if he were my own\nchild or brother. Again, my determination has been to give all a fair\ntrial and a liberal amount of confidence. Yes, we must place ourselves\nin their condition; let our boy or brother, our mother or sister be in\nprison, let us think how we would exercise every means we had in\nreaching or relieving them.\n\nAll prisoners are human, and yet, how few professors of religion show\ninterest in them. They are doubted at every turn. Daggers are driven\nto hearts which are longing for a better life, a purer atmosphere, a\nnew creation. Poor souls! God pity them. O the hearts that cry out for\nbetter things! the souls that are yearning for the good and true! O\nthe thousands of prisoners who may be diamonds in the rough, jewels\nfor whom Christ died. Souls, immortal souls are at stake. We must soon\nmeet these things at the judgment. O to be clear of the censure, the\nrebuke, the reproof of God Almighty in the final day of accounts.\n\nO brother, sister, have we had charity that suffereth long and is\nkind? Have we tried by example and precept to show the criminals that\nwe were really their friends and sincerely cared for their souls? How\nlong has the good Lord borne with us, and shall we not be in earnest\nto save those who are not Christians, to encourage them to a better\nlife, to cheer up the dying convict, to show them there is a God in\nIsrael who hears and answers prayer, one who said, \"Like as a father\npitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him\"?\n\n\n                 WORTH WHILE.\n\n    It is easy enough to be pleasant\n      When life flows by like a song,\n    But the man worth while is the one who will smile\n      When everything goes dead wrong.\n    For the test of the heart is trouble,\n      And it always comes with the years,\n    And the smile that is worth the praise of the earth\n      Is the smile that shines through tears.\n\n    It is easy enough to be prudent\n      When nothing tempts you to stray;\n    When without or within no voice of sin\n      Is luring your soul away.\n    But it is only a negative virtue\n      Until it is tried by fire,\n    And the life that is worth the honor of earth\n      Is the one that resisteth desire.\n\n    By the cynic, the sad, the fallen,\n      Who had no strength for the strife,\n    The world's highway is cumbered to-day;\n      They make up the item of life.\n    But the virtue that conquers passion,\n      And the sorrow that hides in a smile--\n    It is these that are worth the homage of earth,\n      For we find them but once in a while.\n\n                                           --ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.\n\n\n                             PREJUDICE.\n\nI find but little difference between humanity in prison walls and the\nhumanity outside. Prisoners are our brothers and our sisters. We must\nsoon meet them all at the judgment. They are naturally supposed to be\nguilty of crime of some kind. But they are not all criminals. Wicked\nmen, willing to shield themselves, oftentimes throw suspicion on\nothers, who are placed under arrest and convicted by circumstantial\nevidence or false testimony. Others, of course, are of the worst types\nof humanity. Some of them seem unworthy of the name of man or woman,\nyet even these Christ died to save, and God is able to deliver them\nand how shall His name be better glorified or His power be more\nmanifest, than in their transformation?\n\nVery many are so prejudiced against all those who are counted as\ncriminals that they believe them to be utterly incapable of any good\nand are quick to believe that they see in them evidences of the\ndeepest depravity.\n\nA sad yet amusing illustration of this fact comes to my mind. Chaplain\nH., of the Reformatory for Boys at Kearney, Nebraska, is an\nhonest-faced, true-hearted young man, full of zeal in the service of\nGod. At one time when I stopped at Kearney he called for me at the\ntrain. As I looked at him he said, with a smile, \"Did you think it was\none of the boys whom the superintendent had sent for you?\" I replied,\n\"Yes; I did at first; you are so young, Mr. Chaplain;\" and then he\nrelated to me the following circumstances which I give as nearly as I\ncan in his own words:\n\n     \"At one time Prof. Mallalieu and myself had been to Lincoln on\n     business, and were returning together. We were quietly resting,\n     and I was sitting with closed eyes, meditating, when a lady\n     happened along and recognized the Superintendent, and said 'Have\n     you got a boy there, taking him to the Reform Schools?'\n\n     \"Considerably amused, he replied: 'Yes; this is a very bad\n     fellow; I have had a lot of trouble with him, and have just\n     recaptured him, and now I am watching to see that he doesn't make\n     his escape.' The woman leaned over and, scanning my face and\n     features, said: 'He has an awful bad look on his face; you can\n     see he is a criminal and needs to be under strict discipline.'\"\n\nThe dear young chaplain said, as he laughingly related this instance,\nthat he learned a lesson in human nature that day. That woman, who\nimagined that she saw in the face of that young looking, honest,\ndevoted Christian young man evidences of guilt and depravity, was only\none among thousands who are led by prejudice when they imagine that\nthey are exercising great discernment.\n\n\n                      A LOOK INTO THE CELL.\n\nReader, could you and I walk together down the cell-house corridor in\nalmost any of our large prisons, at almost any hour of the night and\npause and listen to the sighs and smothered sobs and often to the deep\ngroans that might be heard welling up from hearts that are broken and\ncrushed by sorrow and remorse; could we, dear reader, cast one\nsidelong glance in passing the rounds of the cell-house with the\nguard, who, with muffled tread wends his ceaseless march throughout\nthe night, your heart, as well as mine, would be deeply moved. On\nthose stone floors, guarded by double locks and iron bars, as well as\nby the living sentinel, you might see many a mother's boy kneeling in\nsilent prayer to his mother's God, and as he prays and communes with\nhis own thoughts, you might hear again the groans of anguish as the\npoor unfortunate thinks of home and mother, wife and children, or\nother loved ones.\n\nThen look with me into that poor man's cell, void of comfort, with\nnothing that would remind you of home; a close narrow cell, a poor\nhard cot, a straw pillow, if any, and kept under strict watch day and\nnight; left many times without one ray of hope, without a gleam of\nsunshine or a kind word. I wonder there are not scores of insane men\nin our state prisons for every one that we find, and there are many,\nvery many, who are either partially or entirely insane. I am convinced\nthat oftentimes men are crazy when the officers suppose they are only\nobstinate and rebellious and mean. Often do I note insanity lurking in\nthe eyes and often as the prisoners file past me at the close of a\nservice and I clasp each one by the hand, as is my custom, among the\nmany who are so glad to have a kind word and a hand-clasp at parting I\nnotice those who are not sane by the peculiarity of the clasp of the\nhand. Some have a clasp like a mad-man, others a limp, lifeless\nhand-shake, with cold, clammy hands. Oh, what wisdom is needed to know\nhow to deal with these poor, helpless souls! I find many of them with\nhearts as tender and sensibilities as acute as any I meet outside.\n\n\n                        INSANE PRISONERS.\n\nWhile I was having a service for the criminal insane at Anamosa,\nIowa, state prison, a young man was very anxious to see me and tell me\nsomething. As I waited to talk with him he said to me in _such a\npitiful way_, \"Go and tell my dear mother I will try to help her.\nWon't somebody help my poor mother?\" This was the burden of his heart.\nPoor boy! in his partial derangement his whole concern seemed to be\nfor her. He is only one among many!\n\n[Illustration: WITH INSANE PRISONERS AT ANAMOSA, IOWA.]\n\n\n                       A TOUCHING INCIDENT.\n\nAt one time I was on the train going north from Indianapolis. My\nbrother, J. M. Ryder, was with me. I was singing a hymn, and walking\nto the end of the car as I sang I saw two men bound together by\nhandcuffs. One of them I supposed to be an officer. He was a fine\nlooking man, well dressed. It was a few days before Christmas, but I\nnoticed some holly-berries pinned to his coat. I remarked, \"You have\nholly-berries before Christmas day!\" With tears rolling down his face\nhe answered, \"My little girl pinned this on me. She said, 'Papa, you\nwill not be here when Christmas comes, and I will pin it on now before\nyou go.'\"\n\nI said, \"You are an officer, are you not?\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" he said, \"I am a prisoner,\" and then he told me his sad\nstory. Money belonging to some one else, a relative, if I remember\nrightly, had been left in his care. Under pressure of need he used\nsome of it, being confident that he could replace it before it was\nneeded; but the shortage was discovered, he was arrested, found guilty\nand sentenced. With a broken heart he said, \"I never will live to\nserve out my sentence. This will surely kill me. I am not a thief, but\nI was so sure I could replace the money before it was needed.\"\n\nReader, think you this man was any more a criminal at heart than\nthousands who move among men honored and respected? Who can question\nthat there are thousands who, perhaps, do not transgress the letter of\nthe law, yet more deliberately and wilfully wrong their fellow men\nthan this poor man? And this case is only one of many; and where shall\nwe draw the line? Oh, let us have fervent charity one for another.\n\nI am not biased in my judgment. I know sentimentalism is not\nsalvation. That can come only through true repentance and faith in God\nand must be evidenced by restitution and good works; but if you could\nsee, as I have seen, the meetings in the prison guard-room between\nhusband and wife, mother and son, or between father and his wayward\nboy, if you could see the tears and sobs as they meet and part, and\nabove all at the last parting before execution, I believe you would\nnever feel like criticising or being harsh in your judgment again.\nCould you have gone with me during these twenty years, could you have\nhad the confidence of these prisoners as I have had it, you would\nrealize that they are, in very many cases, as truly open to conviction\nand as easily reached as those outside of prison walls, and are they\nnot my children? Do I not know their faults? Do they not confess to me\ntheir guilt? But back of all I see Jesus hanging on the cross of\nCalvary, between two thieves, dying, and in His death agony, while the\nblood is oozing from the print of the thorns upon His brow, while the\neyes are growing glassy in death, with the cold death sweat standing\nout upon His face, I hear Him say to the penitent thief, \"This day\nshalt thou be with me in Paradise.\" And again, as He remembers all\nthose who have so cruelly wronged Him, he cries, \"Father, forgive\nthem, for they know not what they do.\" If the Son of God gave Himself\nfor us, if with His dying breath He prayed for His persecutors, if He\nwho knew no sin and understood all hearts could say, \"They know not\nwhat they do,\" God help us to be willing to forgive those who have\ntransgressed the law either of God or man.\n\nThese prisoners need a helping hand, need a friend with wisdom, tact\nand judgment, one in whose heart there is the one thought above all\nothers of the need of their immortal souls, their eternal destiny.\n\nYou and I, reader, must do our part in reforming a lost world, in\nsaving lost sinners. Then let us remember how good God has been to us\nby keeping us out of prison, by keeping us out of the evil\nsurroundings and influences that might have brought us there. Let us\ngive the poor prisoners a fair show and fair play. Many of them long\nfor better things, for one more chance to prove themselves worthy of\nthe confidence and sympathy of their fellow men. After twenty years of\ntoil among those who are bound, I do bless God that He ever called me\nto carry to those in prison the glad message of His love and seek by\nlove and faith and prayer to lift them up to better things.\n\n\n                          PREPARED TO DIE.\n\nOnce while holding services in a prison, there came to me a prisoner\nsaying, \"Mother, I want to tell you I was saved since I saw you.\"\n(Only a few days previous.)\n\nThen he told me that he was under sentence of death and that he was so\ntroubled that he cried to God to forgive his sins and pardon his\ncrime, and that God had forgiven him and that he was now prepared to\ndie. He said that when the Lord forgave him he was so happy that the\nofficers put an extra guard over him, thinking that he had suddenly\nlost his mind.\n\nI exhorted him to maintain his faith in God and never doubt His saving\npower; to walk softly before God; to keep humble and meek and pray\nmuch. Truly there is pardon for every sinner who, in the depths of his\nsoul, repents of his sin. God's love and power are so great that He\nwill save to the uttermost all that come unto Him, not willing that\nany should perish.\n\nReader, perhaps you have not the opportunity to know these souls as I\nknow them, and so to help you understand them I give in other chapters\nmany extracts in their own words, taken here and there from the\nthousands of letters I have received. I believe this will help you to\nunderstand that hundreds, shut out from the companionship of their\nfellow beings, are as easily moved by kindness, as capable of\ngratitude, as easily won to repentance, as willing to give up sin, as\nthousands of those outside, who perhaps have never been tempted as\nthey were tempted and have never fallen as they have fallen. In\nquoting from these letters few changes have been made, except in\nspelling, capitalization and punctuation.\n\n    Some young souls are making, for a stated time,\n    This, their maiden effort, on the sea of crime.\n    Oh, Christians, teach them early what to me is plain;\n    Crime ever _has_ and ever _will_ result in lasting pain.\n    Do not be _too_ lenient, nor _too_ soon forgive,\n    Lest all _vice_ should flourish and no _virtue_ live.\n    Society demands it, the _guilty_ should atone--\n    But take care you punish those, and those _alone_!\n    Keep them in your prison till by _virtue_ shown\n    They will know what _is_ and what is _not_ their own.\n    But let all be careful lest by _word_ or _act_\n    Those who should _reform_ them from their _good_ subtract.\n    Rule them wisely, gently--by some _humane_ plan,\n    All their faults to conquer as best becomes a Man.\n    When your work is finished and their habits changed,\n    Give them honest labor, by the State arranged;\n    Show them honest labor _can_ a living gain,\n    While the _social outcast_ harvests _want_ and _shame_!\n    Treat them fairly, kindly; teach them all the true\n    Will be friendly with them while _the right_ they do.\n    Both principle and policy declare this course is wise;\n    Then why longer act the fool and wisdom's voice despise?\n    Crime never _can_ nor _will_ decrease until in _Wisdom's School_\n    Men learn the noted lesson, \"Right _through_ Law should Rule.\"\n\n                                              --_H. P. McKnight._\n\n[Illustration: PRISONERS MARCHING.]\n\n\n\n\n                            CHAPTER IV.\n\n               A Brief Pen Picture of Prison Life.\n\n\nFor the instruction of children and others who have never visited one\nof our large penitentiaries I insert the following sketch of such a\nvisit written by Mrs. F. M. Lambert, author of \"Holy Maternity,\" which\nwas written for this work:\n\n     The prisons and buildings connected with them are enclosed by a\n     high stone wall. Of course there is a gate, or gates, opening\n     upon driveways leading into the yard where the shops are located.\n     The gate is securely locked and guarded, the guard having a\n     little room built on the wall over the gate. There is a main\n     entrance to the building through which criminals as well as\n     visitors enter. The officer closes and locks the large door\n     behind you upon entering. On Sabbath mornings many things are\n     seen and heard there. The officers come in and take up the work\n     of the day. The warden or deputy takes a large bunch of keys and\n     opens a side door that leads into the cell room, and the guards\n     follow him into the corridor. Soon is heard the rattling of the\n     keys, and the opening and closing of heavy doors, followed by the\n     tramp, tramp, of many feet. Passing out at a side door with the\n     officer, you may watch the men passing down to their breakfast in\n     the dining-room, which is on the ground floor of the chapel,\n     perhaps one hundred feet from the prison building.\n\n     Each guard marches with his company of men, from twenty to fifty\n     in number. They march in single file, each man with his right\n     hand resting upon the right shoulder of the man in front of him.\n\n     The officers wear dark blue uniforms, while the convicts are\n     dressed in suits made of heavy woolen goods, generally striped,\n     the stripes being black and white, a little over an inch wide,\n     even the caps being striped, and of the same material as the\n     suits.\n\n     You follow the officer across the yard, and notice the large\n     greenhouse with its beautiful plants, flowers and shrubs. But,\n     looking back, you see the great high wall of the prison, and\n     remember that the little spot in the prison yard and the sky\n     overhead is all the glimpse of the world that these poor men\n     get, and, no doubt, is all that some of them ever will get, for\n     some of them are shut in there for life.\n\n[Illustration: PRISON CHAPEL AND DINING ROOM.]\n\n\n                       THE CHAPEL SERVICE.\n\n     You follow the officer up the steps of stone into the entrance\n     hall, and watch the men pass out of the dining-room up the\n     stairway into the chapel; then you follow and are led to a seat\n     near the pulpit, facing the assemblage. Your eyes wander quickly\n     over that strange lot of from two hundred to five hundred men,\n     and, in some prisons, over a thousand constitute the audience.\n     When all are seated, the guards seat themselves on high stools\n     placed along the sides of the room, facing the rear door, while\n     the prisoners face the pulpit at the farther end of the room.\n\n     Then the prison choir sings and the organ peals forth its\n     beautiful strains, the prisoners joining in the singing. You\n     cannot keep back the tears as you look into their faces and think\n     that only for sin they might be free. Verily, \"the way of the\n     transgressor is hard.\" Prayer is offered, and the chaplain, and\n     those who have permission, talk from the written word of eternal\n     life. Invariably your eyes sweep over that strange audience, and\n     here and there you see a man, or perhaps a young boy, in tears,\n     and you know the tender chord in their hearts has been touched.\n     God grant it may be so! Several testify to hope in Christ.\n\n     Services over, the prisoners are marched to their cells and\n     locked in. They must all attend the morning service, but are not\n     compelled to attend the Sunday school in the afternoon. Few\n     prisons conduct Sunday schools. In the afternoon, in company with\n     the chaplain and some of the guards, you may visit the cell\n     rooms, and are allowed to distribute papers and tracts, and speak\n     personally with each prisoner.\n\n     THE CELL ROOM is a long room with a stone floor and whitewashed\n     walls, the cells running through the middle of its entire length.\n     The cells are narrow, little rooms, perhaps four feet wide and\n     six or seven feet long. They vary somewhat in size. They have\n     doors of strong bars of iron, and no windows. All the air\n     received must enter through this grated door in front. The back\n     of each cell joins with the back of the row of cells on the other\n     side, thus forming a double row facing in opposite directions.\n\n     Rows of cells are built in tiers, one row above another, with a\n     narrow platform running along in front, with an iron railing.\n\n     Each man's name, and the number of his cell, is placed over his\n     door. A wide corridor runs all around the main room, which admits\n     the circulation of air from the large grated windows. Sabbath is\n     rather a hard day for the men, for they had rather be at work\n     than locked in lonely cells, with only their own thoughts and\n     troubled consciences for company.\n\n     Many of the men who are there for long terms have their cells\n     fixed very nicely, and one can usually tell those whose hearts\n     cling to home or friends. But there are some who seem to care for\n     nothing. One boy had his cell ornamented with festoons of\n     newspapers folded and torn into patterns representing lace\n     curtains. Another, a life convict, had his cell festooned with\n     colored tissue paper. This man was a trusty, who had the care of\n     the flowers and plants. In some prisons the cells are not\n     provided with Bibles, and some prisons have no chaplains.\n\n     Some of the men are very expert at making beautiful things, such\n     as pin cushions, picture frames, hair-braided watch guards,\n     pen-holders, workboxes, toy chairs and many other things. One man\n     I saw was making designs for embossed rocking-chair backs;\n     another had his tools for repairing watches.\n\n[Illustration: CORRIDOR IN CELL HOUSE.]\n\n\n                               THE WORKSHOPS.\n\n     On Monday morning we may visit the workshops and see the men at\n     work. Here we see all kinds of work; farm implements, such as\n     hoes, rakes, pitchforks and many other things, probably all made\n     of iron. These tools pass through many hands before they are\n     complete. Each process is done by a separate set of men. For\n     instance, the hoes are made by some and sharpened by others. It\n     takes only a few seconds to sharpen a tool. As soon as this is\n     done it is passed on to others who polish it, and the handle is\n     inserted and painted.\n\n     Some rooms are so warm from the many furnaces, and the red-hot\n     irons which are being beaten into shape, that a person can\n     scarcely stay long enough to see the work done, and is glad to\n     move on to cooler departments. The men seem to look well, but you\n     cannot help wondering how they ever work and endure the terrible\n     heat. They are not allowed to talk to each other, and are\n     continually under the guard's eye. Here and there one looks up\n     with a nod and a smile.\n\n     Each man in the shops is given a certain amount of work to do,\n     and if he does any more than his allotted task, he is paid for\n     it. The amount is kept for him. But very few except long-timers\n     and experts can gain any time to do extra work.\n\n     After going through all the shops we pass on to\n\n\n                             THE HOSPITAL,\n\n     which is in the rear of the chapel, and in the same building.\n     Here are sights that touch hearts. Some are dying with\n     consumption, and some with broken hearts. One poor boy's sunken\n     cheeks and thin, wasted hands especially touched me. Taking him\n     by the hand, I began to talk to him. He said: \"No one cares for\n     _me_.\" \"Yes, God cares for you and He loves you.\" \"Why does He\n     let me stay here and die if He loves me?\" \"Have you a mother?\"\n     \"Yes, I have a good Christian mother, but she doesn't know I am\n     here.\" \"May I write and tell her you are sick? I am sure she\n     wants to know about you?\" \"Oh, no; I had rather die all alone\n     than to have mother know I am here.\"\n\n     So it is all through these places. For, though I have briefly\n     described one prison, they are all in a great measure alike, yet\n     vary in different states to some extent. All are not so clean\n     and neat as this one spoken of, and though a prison might be\n     lined with costly gems, it is still a prison, and without Jesus\n     in the heart it is only a living tomb to those confined therein.\n     Let none think that it is a pleasant place to be. One man may\n     want to be a Christian, or at least a moral man and a man of\n     cultured tastes, and such men find it doubly hard when they must\n     work side by side with the most degraded criminals. One may leave\n     the prison worse than when he went in.\n\n     In these places children hide their ruined lives and breaking\n     hearts from their dearest earthly friends. No mother to smooth\n     the dying one's pillow, though small it may be! No sister or\n     brother to wipe away the bitter tears that _will_ fall; no father\n     to say good-bye. O mothers, let the memory of your boy's innocent\n     childhood fan all your tenderness and love into a flame that\n     would leap over the highest breastwork Satan could erect and take\n     your boy or girl back to your heart. If you have been a true\n     Christian and have done your duty faithfully, trust still in God.\n     What we need is faithful teaching among the unsaved, to warn them\n     against their danger, before they get into such awful places.\n\n[Illustration: NEW FEDERAL PRISON AT FT. LEAVENWORTH, KANSAS.]\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER V.\n\n   Letters of Introduction and Kind Words from Governors, Prison\n                           Officials, Etc.\n\n\nFrom the great number of letters which I have received, of the\ncharacter indicated by the title of this chapter, I give a few which\nmay be of interest to the reader. These will suffice to show the\ngeneral interest of those in positions of honor and trust and their\nwillingness to share a part in the work I have tried to perform for\nhumanity, by making it possible for me to prosecute and carry it on.\nMany letters of like topic have been lost or destroyed, and, space\nbeing limited, I hope those who have done a like part may not feel\nslighted. The true records are kept by the recording angel, and every\none shall receive a just reward. \"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one\nof the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me.\"\n\nSuch letters received in the Southern states will be found in the\nchapters on work in Stockades and Prison Camps. Also some relating to\nStreet and Rescue work in the chapters on these respective topics. I\nshould like very much to give some personal letters from railway\nofficials, expressing their appreciation and interest in the work, but\nI have refrained lest by such some might be caused some annoyance. To\nthem much gratitude and credit is due, from all who have received\nencouragement or spiritual benefit through my feeble efforts made in\nthe name of Jesus.\n\n\n                          FROM GOVERNORS.\n\n                                         Executive Department,\n                                     Indianapolis, Ind., Dec. 4, 1891.\n\n     Hon. J. B. Patten, Warden,\n             Jeffersonville, Ind.\n\n     Dear Sir:\n\n     This will be presented to you by Mrs. Elizabeth Ryder Wheaton, an\n     evangelist whose work is especially among prisoners. I hope it\n     will suit your pleasure and convenience to extend to her the\n     privilege of addressing the prisoners of your institution.\n\n                               Yours truly,\n                                         I. J. CHASE, Governor...\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                         Executive Department,\n                                Indianapolis, Ind., Aug. 3, 1893.\n\n     Capt. Jas. B. Patten,\n          Warden Prison South,\n               Jeffersonville, Ind.\n\n     Dear Sir:\n\n     This will be presented to you by Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, a prison\n     evangelist of long experience and considerable reputation. She\n     comes with the highest recommendations of her work from prisons\n     heretofore visited. She desires to conduct services in your\n     chapel, and I trust you will afford her every reasonable facility\n     for so doing.\n\n                         Very respectfully,\n                                                 CLAUDE MATTHEWS.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                          Governor's Office.\n\n                                            Topeka, Aug. 5, 1893.\n\n     Hon. S. W. Chase,\n            Lansing, Kans.\n\n     Dear Sir:\n\n     This will introduce to you Elizabeth Ryder Wheaton, a prison\n     evangelist, who comes to us very highly recommended.\n\n     She is desirous of holding service, or taking part, at least, in\n     the prison.\n\n     Any favors shown her will be appreciated by\n\n                                    FRED J. CLOSE, Private Sec'y.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n     Dear Chase:\n\n     I have just come in, and take pleasure in endorsing the above\n     letter. I bespeak for this lady a full opportunity to address the\n     prisoners, as I have no doubt but that the service will be\n     productive of good.\n\n                                 Yours,\n                                       L. D. LEWELLING, Governor.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                           Executive Office.\n                            State of Idaho.\n\n                                       Boise City, Dec. 19, 1895.\n\n     To Whom It May Concern:\n\n     This will introduce Elizabeth Ryder Wheaton, a lady who is\n     devoted to prison work. Any favors shown her will be gratefully\n     appreciated.\n\n                             Respectfully,\n                                       W. J. MCCONNELL, Governor.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                         Executive Chamber.\n\n                                Lincoln, Nebraska, Oct. 10, 1896.\n\n     Warden Leidigh:\n\n     My Dear L.:--\n\n     This will introduce to you Mrs. Elizabeth Ryder Wheaton, who is\n     interested in prison reform work and in visiting prisons for the\n     purpose of holding suitable services on the Sabbath day. Kindly\n     extend such courtesies as you can, and make the necessary\n     announcements so that she can conduct services in the chapel, and\n     much oblige,\n\n                            Very truly yours,\n                                      SILAS A. HOLCOMB, Governor.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                           Executive Chamber.\n\n                              Carson City, Nevada, Dec. 13, 1902.\n\n     Mrs. Henderson:\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, the bearer of this, desires to do some\n     charitable work at the prison and she desires to have services\n     there tomorrow, as Mr. Henderson is not there. She is coming down\n     with Mr. Harris and will explain her mission to you.\n\n                                 Yours truly,\n                                             R. SADLER, Governor.\n\n\n                               PRISON OFFICIALS.\n\n                                Sheriff's Office.\n                                 Suffolk County.\n\n                                           Boston, Oct. 24, 1885.\n\n     Mr. Bradley:\n\n     Let the bearer visit the jail and see any person she desires to.\n\n                                          J. B. O'BRIEN, Sheriff.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                    North Carolina State Penitentiary.\n\n                                   Raleigh, N. C., Nov. 14, 1885.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton.\n\n     My Dear Friend: Your postal just to hand, and in reply I am glad\n     to say my daughter is much better than when you were in Raleigh,\n     but she is still very far from being well. The general health of\n     the prisoners is very good at this time. I shall be very glad to\n     have you at our prison as you pass on your way south. We have all\n     of the convicts in the prison every Sabbath, and I shall be very\n     much pleased for you to have service for us. We can arrange for\n     the service on any Sabbath morning or evening, as may be most\n     desirable or convenient to you.\n\n     I regret that I did not meet you when you were here last. May the\n     good Lord bless you very abundantly in your Christian work.\n\n                        Your Friend,\n                               W. J. HICKS, Architect and Warden.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                          Warden's Office,\n                     Nebraska State Penitentiary.\n\n                               Nobesville, Nebr., April 11, 1886.\n\n     R. J. McClaughry,\n         Warden Penitentiary,\n            Joliet, Ill.\n\n     Dear Sir:\n\n     This will introduce to your favorable notice Mrs. E. R. Wheaton,\n     Prison Evangelist. Mrs. Wheaton is highly recommended by some of\n     the most prominent persons, and any favors that you can show her\n     will be in a good cause.\n\n                              Very respectfully,\n                                             C. F. NOBES, Warden.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                    San Francisco, Aug. 18, 1888.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Madam: I have just received yours of the 17th inst., and in\n     reply will say that you have always been welcome to visit the\n     jail and enjoy every privilege granted to others of your sex.\n\n     Mr. G.'s mother has not been allowed to enter his cell for some\n     time past. The utmost freedom consistent with our rules of order\n     is given to all those employed in the good work in which you are\n     so earnestly engaged. Should you find it convenient to visit the\n     institution again prior to leaving our State, we will be pleased\n     to admit you, and should you prevail on the sheriff to allow the\n     special favor you seek, we will gladly comply with the order.\n\n                           Respectfully yours,\n                                       JOHN ROGERS, Chief Jailer.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                      Dakota Penitentiary North.\n\n                                        Bismarck, Dak., Oct. 27, 1888.\n\n     Hon. D. S. Glidden,\n            Warden Penitentiary,\n                   Sioux Falls, Dak.\n\n     Dear Sir:\n\n     This will introduce to you Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton and Miss\n     Mary M----, Prison Evangelists.\n\n     They paid us a visit several days ago. While they came without\n     introduction, I welcomed them and gave them opportunity to\n     examine the prison; also called officers and prisoners together\n     in the evening and held services. We were well repaid for our\n     time and trouble. They left a lasting and good impression. I\n     think that you will like their singing and prison talk. I bespeak\n     for them a cordial greeting. Fraternally yours,\n\n                                            DAN WILLIAMS, Warden.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                           Warden's Office,\n                       Penitentiary at Anamosa.\n\n                                     Anamosa, Iowa, Dec. 2, 1888.\n\n     This is to certify that Elizabeth R. Wheaton this day held\n     religious services in the prison chapel at this prison, which\n     were very interesting and instructive, and were highly\n     appreciated by both convicts and officials. I am convinced that\n     much good will result from the meeting. Mrs. Wheaton is very\n     earnest in her remarks, and her singing is charming. I can\n     heartily commend her to all prison officials whom she may choose\n     to visit.\n\n                               Very truly,\n                                            MARQUIS BARR, Warden.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                 Ohio Penitentiary, Warden's Office.\n\n                                  Columbus, Ohio, Sept. 10, 1889.\n\n     To Prison Officers:\n\n     This will introduce Mrs. Wheaton, who has been at our prison and\n     worked among the boys. There is none who will command more\n     respect and no more earnest worker than Mrs. Wheaton. She will do\n     good Christian work wherever she goes.\n\n                              Respectfully,\n                                               W. B. PENNINGTON,\n                                Deputy Warden, Ohio Penitentiary.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Huntsville, Tex., Sept. 20, 1904.\n\n     Mother Wheaton,\n         Tabor Iowa.\n\n     My Dear Madam: Your favor of the 4th instant came duly to hand,\n     and we certainly appreciate your kind remembrance.\n\n     I made the men a talk last Sunday in the Chapel and told them of\n     your kindly words sent them by you through me, and I know they\n     all appreciated it. May God bless you in your good work, and\n     grant that your days may be long; that you may be able to turn\n     many poor, wayward men and women from their evil ways.\n\n     With my very kindest regards, I beg to remain, madam,\n\n                     Yours most sincerely,\n\n                               T. H. BROWN, Asst. Superintendent.\n\n     Dict. T. H. B.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                        Sioux Falls, South Dakota, Aug. 31, 1891.\n\n     To My Brethren--Wardens:\n\n     Gentlemen: Having observed the work of Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton\n     as a prison evangelist, I most cheerfully recommend her to your\n     kind consideration and co-operation. Her presence is a\n     benediction, and her work is in no sense subversive of good\n     discipline, but, on the other hand, is most healthful and\n     helpful.\n\n                          Fraternally yours,\n                                                THEO. D. KANOUSE,\n                             Warden of South Dakota Penitentiary.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                            Warden's Office.\n                      The Anamosa Penitentiary.\n\n                                     Anamosa, Iowa, Oct. 8, 1894.\n\n     To all who entertain an interest in our common humanity:\n\n     We deem it only just and proper to express our endorsement of the\n     labors and influence of Mrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton among the\n     inmates of prisons.\n\n     Her visits to this prison have invariably been attended with good\n     results, and she leaves within these walls a fragrant and\n     wholesome influence.\n\n                      Most respectfully,\n                                         P. W. MADDEN, Warden.\n                                         J. M. CROCKER, Chaplain.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                   Southern Illinois Penitentiary.\n\n                      Chester, Ill., Menard P. O., Oct. 22, 1893.\n\n     Dr. V. S. Benson, Asylum for Criminal Insane,\n\n     My Dear Doctor:\n\n     This will introduce Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, a prison evangelist who\n     wishes to hold open air services at your place. I am deeply\n     impressed with her earnestness and eloquence, and feel that she\n     has done us good down here.\n                              Yours truly,\n\n                                             J. D. BAKER, Warden.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                       Superintendent's Office.\n                        Virginia Penitentiary.\n\n                                      Richmond Va., June 8, 1893.\n\n     To Whom It May Concern:\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton, evangelist, whose mission is among\n     prisoners, has visited and held meetings at this institution\n     which have made a decided impression upon the convicts, and I\n     heartily recommend her to the favor of prison officials and\n     other good people.\n\n                                     Very truly yours,\n                                                B. W. LYNN, Supt.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                     Colorado State Penitentiary.\n\n                               Canon City, Colo., April 11, 1904.\n\n     To Whom It May Concern:\n\n     I wish to say that Mother Wheaton, who has from time to time\n     visited the Colorado State Penitentiary, has been the means, I\n     believe, of accomplishing much good with the inmates of this\n     institution. Her earnest efforts and kind, motherly advice have\n     instilled in the hearts of the prisoners an apparent desire to be\n     better men. I certainly most earnestly commend her to the kindly\n     care of those whom she may meet.\n\n                                                 JOHN CLEGHORN,\n                              Warden Colorado State Penitentiary.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                      South Dakota Penitentiary.\n\n                              Sioux Falls, S. D., March 12, 1904.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton,\n         612 E St., Elkhart, Ind.\n\n     Dear Madam:\n\n     I take this opportunity of thanking you for the visit made to\n     this institution some time ago. Your work among the prisoners has\n     had good effect in more ways than one. A number of the inmates\n     have told me that your encouraging and Christian talk to them has\n     helped them and that they are trying to live Christian lives and\n     that by the help of God they expect this to be their last term in\n     prison.\n\n     Hoping that you may be able to visit this institution again, I\n     am,\n\n                                     Yours truly,\n                                           O. S. SWENSON, Warden.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                       South Dakota Penitentiary.\n\n                                Sioux Falls, S. D., June 5, 1905.\n\n     To Whom It May Concern:\n\n     This is to certify that Mother Wheaton, the bearer of this\n     letter, has visited the South Dakota Penitentiary in the capacity\n     of a missionary. I am glad of the opportunity to say that she is\n     doing much good to those unfortunate enough to be placed in an\n     institution of this kind and I heartily commend her work.\n\n                             Very respectfully,\n                                           H. T. PARMLEY, Warden.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                      Nebraska State Penitentiary.\n\n                                   Lancaster, Neb., May 22, 1905.\n\n     Mother Wheaton's visits to this institution always seem to cheer\n     up the inmates and make most of them look forward to better\n     things. They feel that she has a mother's heart for all.\n\n                                            A. D. BEEMER, Warden.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                  Office of the Commissioners of the\n                        District of Columbia.\n\n                                       Washington, Aug. 19, 1893.\n\n     Mr. W. H. Stoutenburgh,\n         Intendant Washington Asylum.\n\n     Dear Sir:\n\n     The commissioners direct me to ask that you will give the bearer,\n     Mrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton, a hearing, and such favorable\n     action as you properly may with respect to the object of her\n     visit, which is to arrange for the holding of religious exercises\n     at the asylum.\n\n                              Very truly,\n                                           W. TINDALL, Secretary.\n\n\n                           PERSONAL LETTERS.\n\n                       Kansas State Penitentiary.\n\n                                    Lansing, Kan., Oct. 17, 1894.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton.\n     Dear Sister:\n\n     I am in receipt of your card and am glad to hear of your good\n     success. I enclose you a money order for eight dollars and\n     seventy-five cents, of which fifty cents comes from the deputy\n     warden, and the balance from prisoners. You will remember that I\n     gave you one dollar and twenty-five cents, making a total of ten\n     dollars.\n\n     Excuse me for being so particular, but money drawn from the\n     prisoners goes on record, so would like your receipt to show for\n     it.\n\n     Wife and children are well.\n\n                                 Fraternally,\n                                          F. A. BRIGGS, Chaplain.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                     Kentucky Branch Penitentiary.\n\n                                   Eddyville, Ky., Nov. 13, 1897.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton.\n     Dear Sister:\n\n     I suppose you remember your visit to our prison; the boys often\n     speak of you. We would be glad to have you visit us again\n     whenever it would be convenient. I will soon have to submit my\n     annual report and I write you that I may get a statement from you\n     that I may embody in the report. I herewith enclose statement; if\n     you will sign and return to me I will be very thankful. I have\n     forgotten the lady's name who was with you. If you could get a\n     like statement from her for me I would be glad to embody it also.\n     In my report I will speak of your visit in a way that will\n     introduce you into other parts of the United States.\n\n     Hoping to hear from you soon, I am,\n\n                     Yours most respectfully,\n                                            D. F. KERR, Chaplain.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                      Missouri State Penitentiary.\n                          Office of Warden.\n\n                                   Jefferson City, Nov. 22, 1897.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     Your card duly received and we were all glad to hear from you, D.\n     especially. Enclosed you will find a letter from her which she is\n     very anxious for you to answer. Mrs. Pike and I both ordered\n     books from Mr. McKnight at Columbus and are perfectly delighted\n     with them. Mrs. Spahr has ordered one too. We are all about as\n     usual, some three or four sick. We have fifty-two women at\n     present. Hope you are well and prospering in the Lord's work.\n     Will be pleased to hear from you often. With much love,\n\n                         I am sincerely yours,\n                                                     BELLE MAGEE,\n                                       Matron State Penitentiary.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Pittsburg, Kan., April 18, 1898.\n\n     My Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     Your kind letter just received. God bless you for your kind,\n     sympathetic heart. I have often thought of and prayed for you. I\n     still feel that God will open the way for me to re-enter the\n     prison work. I am trusting Him. He is my all and in all.\n\n     I hear occasionally from the boys at Fort Madison. God has used\n     you marvelously. May you be spared long to tell to those around\n     what a dear Saviour you have found.\n\n                      Your son in the gospel,\n                                                   C. S. LASLETT,\n                              Former Chaplain Fort Madison, Iowa.\n\n     Eph. 3:18-21.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                        Anamosa Penitentiary.\n\n                                     Anamosa, Iowa, Oct. 5, 1899.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     At last we have your handkerchiefs finished, and can send to you.\n     The girls did not get those tiny slippers finished in time to\n     have them at the turnkey's office the evening before you went\n     away, so will enclose them now. They are very small, but we know\n     you will appreciate the motive rather than the result.\n\n     They are all doing nicely and I feel quite encouraged with the\n     present outlook.\n\n     I trust that you are better and that your general health may\n     remain good for years of usefulness yet in life.\n\n     With best wishes from myself and my father, the Deputy Warden,\n\n                       I am sincerely yours,\n                                  MRS. ANGIE M. WATERMAN, Matron.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                      Kansas State Penitentiary.\n\n                                     Lansing, Kan., Oct. 5, 1899.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     Your card of yesterday reached me today, but too late to attend\n     your service at the Home, which I would have been pleased to do.\n     Accompanied by our daughter we went to Kansas City, Mo., Monday\n     evening for a short visit and returned home yesterday noon. I\n     examined eight new prisoners just before starting and upon my\n     return found sixteen more. Then two more today. Twenty-six in all\n     this week! So I have been very busy.\n\n     Your handkerchief was found in Chapel and my sexton and night\n     watch want you to know that you have found \"two honest boys in\n     the pen.\" I send it enclosed.\n\n     Are you going to remain here over another Sunday, and if so, will\n     you be out again or do you go to the Military Prison?\n\n     The little book to Baby Esther, the poem and a tract, came this\n     evening, for which please accept grateful thanks. May the blessed\n     Lord greatly bless you in your noble work. May He comfort,\n     strengthen and keep you.\n\n                     Sincerely yours in Jesus,\n                                         R. A. HOFFMAN, Chaplain.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                         Iowa Soldiers' Home.\n                               Marshalltown, Iowa, July 18, 1901.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Sister. Your card came, after a little delay, duly to hand.\n\n     We regret very much your being sick and especially with that\n     dreaded disease, the smallpox. There has not been a case of it at\n     the Home and not any in town that I know of.\n\n     Our family is well. Matters at the Home in usual shape.\n     Thirty-four of the boys have died since January 1, and so we are\n     being mustered out, because of service no longer needed. It will\n     be a wonderful relief to us all to be invited to that \"house not\n     made with hands, eternal in the heavens.\"\n\n     Your visit here was well received, much enjoyed and very\n     profitable. Your coming again will be hailed with delight.\n\n                      Very truly, your brother,\n                                            JESSE COLE, Chaplain.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                        Michigan State Prison.\n\n                                   Jackson, Mich., Sept. 9, 1903.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     The work still progresses nicely. Many of the men speak in the\n     highest terms of the services you held here and wish to hear you\n     again and those who pray often remember you in their prayers.\n\n     We are very thankful to you for your interest in the inmates of\n     Jackson Prison. God bless you in your mission of love. We send\n     the sincere wish and offer the earnest prayer that God may make\n     your book a strong influence in the upbuilding of Christian life\n     and character.\n\n                                   Sincerely,\n                                        FRANK MCALPINE, Chaplain.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                       Rusk, Tex., April 7, 1904.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Sister: Your kind postal was read to \"The Boys\" last Sunday\n     and I was requested to answer it. They enjoyed your words of love\n     and sympathy very much. The \"old timers\" remember you well, and\n     the new men know you through the old ones.\n\n     John B. Reagan is Assistant Superintendent, J. H. Meeks, Warden\n     or, as he is called here, Underkeeper; J. H. Walker, Assistant\n     Financial Agent, and I am Chaplain.\n\n     We would like so much for you to visit us. If you make\n     arrangements to come let me know and I will meet you at the\n     depot.\n\n                           Yours in the work,\n                                                    J. L. DAWSON.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\nAccompanying the following tribute from Bro. Munro, chaplain of the\nMission to the \"Tombs\" Prison in New York City, we give cuts of the\nold \"Tombs\" where I have held services a number of times, and of the\n\"New Tombs\" which has not been occupied a great while. Also a short\nextract taken from the annual report of the chaplain.\n\n\n[Illustration: THE OLD TOMBS]\n\n[Illustration: THE NEW TOMBS]\n\n                       Gospel Mission to the Tombs.\n                       Rev. J. J. Munro, Chaplain.\n\n                                    New York City, June 24, 1904.\n\n     Dear Sister Wheaton,\n     Prison Evangelist,\n     Chicago, Ill.\n\n     I am glad to hear that you are writing a book on prison labors.\n     You certainly have had much experience in that line. I trust your\n     book will have a wide circulation in which the marvels of God's\n     free grace to men and women behind the bars will be fully seen.\n\n     I take much pleasure in commending your prison labors for the\n     Master. For when you came to the Tombs it gave me great joy to\n     hear you speak to the prisoners. And your earnest words for lost\n     souls will not be soon forgotten. Success to you and may God's\n     richest blessing be with you.\n\n                            In the Master's name,\n                                                   JOHN J. MUNRO.\n\n                                    EXTRACT.\n\n     \"Crime among boys and young men has increased greatly during the\n     last few years. I cannot account for this except on the ground of\n     a noticeable increase in the social high pressure.\n\n     \"The temptations today are greater than ever and swamp the young\n     men by the hundreds before they reach their majority. I meet\n     these boys in prison--white and colored--and talk to them. I find\n     out their needs and try to help them.\n\n     \"Nowhere in the wide world can the power of sin be more clearly\n     seen than in the Tombs Prison. It is a wreckage pool where hulks\n     and derelicts that have been abandoned in the ocean of life come\n     to a standstill. What an army of fallen humanity! They can go no\n     further. When they realize their condition they weep, groan and\n     bitterly lament over their misspent lives. Can these men be\n     transformed by the power of the Gospel? These moral and physical\n     wrecks, with bleared eyes, sunken and emaciated cheeks and many\n     other marks of sin. What a besotted multitude! Yet the Gospel of\n     Jesus can reach them. 'He can save to the uttermost all that come\n     unto God through Him.'\"\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                    Nebraska State Penitentiary.\n                       A. D. Beemer, Warden.\n\n                                   Lancaster, Neb., May 22, 1905.\n\n     To Whom It May Concern:\n\n     I have lately become acquainted with Mrs. Elizabeth Wheaton,\n     familiarly known as \"Mother Wheaton,\" the prison evangelist, and\n     I take pleasure in recommending her and endorsing her work among\n     those who are detained in prisons and jails.\n\n     Her manifest Christian spirit, sympathy with the unfortunate and\n     condemned ones, sincere humility, all entitle her to the esteem\n     and confidence of all, and I believe her work productive of much\n     good.\n\n                                  Signed,      P. C. JOHNSON,\n                               Chaplain of Nebraska Penitentiary,\n                                                  Lancaster, Neb.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Huntsville, Tex., Aug. 8, 1904.\n\n     To Whom It May Concern:\n\n     This is to certify that Sister Elizabeth R. Wheaton, prison\n     evangelist, has visited our prison and held a profitable service.\n     She is a consecrated woman and has her heart in the work. Would\n     to God that we had more such women. May the Lord raise them up\n     and help these poor unfortunate men who are confined within\n     prison walls. All the prisoners who know her love her and call\n     her mother. May the Lord in his mercy preserve her and give her\n     many souls for her labor.\n\n                                             W. T. MCDONALD,\n                                           Chaplain Penitentiary.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                               Charlestown, Mass., Oct. 30, 1885.\n\n     Dear Mrs. Wheaton:\n\n     I am sorry I had no opportunity to see you before you left. I\n     trust we may see you on your way to the south. Mrs. Chapman\n     informed me last evening of your whereabouts and the Warden\n     wished me to convey his regards to you and say that he should\n     like to see you here again, if convenient or consistent with your\n     plans, on Sunday next (Nov. 1).\n\n     Accompanying this please find some notes from different\n     prisoners. The Warden would be glad to have you here some\n     Saturday P.M. in order that you should be in the yard, at liberty\n     with all the men, that you might speak with them at your freedom\n     or pleasure personally. I trust that the divine light is flooding\n     your spirit and I pray it may do so forever.\n\n     I hope that Christ is ever a satisfying portion to you and that\n     your comforts in Him are numberless and rich.\n\n     May God Almighty fill you with himself.\n\n                              Respectfully,\n                                                 J. W. F. BARNES,\n                                     Chaplain Mass. State Prison.\n\n     P. S. Also find herewith a paper drawn up by one prisoner and\n     signed by thirty-three others.\n\n                                                      J. W. F. B.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Charlestown, Mass., June 4, 1887.\n\n     Dear Sister Wheaton:\n\n     Things here seem to be getting on to the praise of Jehovah. I had\n     a good, long letter from Sister B. this morning. It is most\n     blessed to feel that Jesus abides in the ship and commands the\n     winds and sea as well. Praise his glorious name!\n\n     What a blessing it is to be on the altar in God's service, ready\n     to go or stay; ready to labor or to rest; to bear burdens or be\n     free.\n\n     I trust that the fullest rays of the Sun Divine may warm your\n     heart and make your life fruitful.\n\n     God be with you richly in all things.\n\n                          With best of wishes,\n                                       J. W. F. BARNES, Chaplain.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                     Massachusetts State Prison.\n                                      Charlestown, Feb. 13, 1896.\n\n     Dear Mrs. Wheaton:\n\n     Your postal to the Warden concerning ---- was put into my hands.\n     This is the first moment I have had to devote to an answer. He is\n     in the city working. He has made excellent friends. He stands\n     well in the church he has joined; is connected with a very large\n     Bible class of young men and frequently has to be its teacher. He\n     is active in the church, but closely confined to his work.\n\n     We are in fair condition, comparatively, in the prison. We have\n     tonight, 761 prisoners. I send you one of our reports with this.\n\n     A. is still keeping a Rescue Mission and doing well.\n\n     I presume you are still after the welfare of the prisoners. I\n     have been very ill since I saw you, but am able to be at my work\n     again. Our little prayer meeting on Saturday P. M. still goes on\n     doing good. The Lord is with us in the enlightening and building\n     up of souls.\n\n     Such work as you used to do has been left out of the prison life\n     and no one is allowed now to go into the chapel on Sundays. Once\n     each month I take in some people to help us sing in our praise\n     service. The same people every time, however. Pray for us.\n\n                                   Sincerely yours,\n                                       J. W. F. BARNES, Chaplain.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                      Massachusetts State Prison.\n\n                                      Charlestown, June 14, 1899.\n\n     Dear Sister Wheaton:\n\n     Yours came on Monday last. I was glad to hear from you, and to\n     get the enclosures in your letter. They are good--very good--for\n     my work and my own life. I heartily reciprocate all your good\n     wishes for me and pray that you may be preserved from all evil.\n\n     We have had some blessed conversions here and one or two of our\n     men have gone to their reward in great peace and joy.\n\n     F. is doing well and much loved in his work for Christ. He is at\n     same address I sent you before.\n\n                            Truly yours in the work,\n                                       J. W. F. BARNES, Chaplain.\n\n[Illustration: PERSONAL WORK.]\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAPTER VI.\n\n                        Some of My Prison Boys.\n\n\nThe writer of the following letters was one of the most remarkably\nconscientious persons I ever knew. As a prisoner, he was very highly\nrespected by the officers. His chaplain has ever remained his sincere\nfriend and counselor. Years have passed since he left prison life and\nhe still remains an earnest Christian and an honorable member of\nsociety. No one but his pastor, employer and former friends know his\npast history.\n\nHe was converted in prison during services I held in 1884 or 1885. He\npresented me some years ago with a book of poems of his own writing.\nNot being able to carry them with me, I have lost trace of them.\nOtherwise would be glad to furnish some of them to my readers.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n               To Mrs. Wheaton, My Dear Mother in the Lord:\n\n     I call you by this name because I am young and have lost my\n     mother in the flesh, and I am writing this letter because, as you\n     have given up all for Jesus' sake, you only can help me as I\n     wish. You can pray for me as a mother prays for a son. I am\n     twenty-four years old, have an eighteen years' sentence, have\n     served four years of it and expect to serve the whole of it for I\n     have no influential friends to help me.\n\n     I had not been here a year until I realized what eighteen years\n     of prison life meant--the deprivation of all earthly pleasures,\n     and the wasting away of youthful hopes and ambitions in vain\n     regret. Grief, misery and despair overwhelmed me every night, and\n     every night I wished that I were dead. A great struggle was going\n     on in my soul. A struggle for either life or death, and, thank\n     God, life had the victory.\n\n     I am now a Christian. A night of revelation came to me in which\n     God, as Judge, and Jesus, as Saviour, revealed to me--the one,\n     the power and glory; the other, the love of God.\n\n     But my way is not like the peaceful flow of a river, but like a\n     stream of cascades. By leaps I draw nearer to God. In the\n     meantime I do not keep the image of Jesus before me. Pray, dear\n     mother, this special prayer for me, that my faith may be\n     constant; that self shall no more come between it and Jesus; that\n     surroundings shall not weaken it; that youth shall not neglect\n     it. Jesus has stamped my soul with his blood. It can never be\n     effaced, but my soul does not thrill as often as I wish with the\n     joy of right-doing. Belief in Jesus permeates my whole being. Why\n     do I sometimes stray from his love? Repentance is doubly grievous\n     then, and repent I must. My conscience compels me. The prayers of\n     a saintly woman will be heard. You will pray for me for Jesus'\n     sake.\n\n                            Yours in the Lord,\n                                                          SIGNED.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                          Thanksgiving Day, 1885.\n\n     Dear Mother in the Lord:\n\n     With what mingled emotions of joy, gratitude and love, I read\n     your faith inspiring letter. I did not expect it, for one Sunday\n     in the chapel the Chaplain read one from you addressed to us all\n     in general. He also told us something about your way--what a\n     lonely, weary way. What a sorrow yours has been! Can we poor\n     mortals ever forget our sorrow? Does it not rise to the surface\n     at times and overwhelm us, so that nothing but the soothing\n     presence of Jesus can comfort us? \"I will not leave you\n     comfortless; I will come to you.\"\n\n     A common saying here is: \"I don't believe in a man coming to\n     prison to reform.\" Ah! little they know what reform is, for where\n     on earth does one need the Spirit that reforms more than in\n     prison? Our poets tell us that prisons are the types of hell. I\n     bless God for bringing me to this prison. Out of its depths I\n     cried and He heard me, nor do I pray to be free from its thrall.\n     Indeed I do pray for His will to be done in me and beseech Him to\n     keep me here until He calls me to Himself, rather than I should\n     go free again and forget Him. That I never can. Though I fell to\n     the lowest depths, I could never forget Him. Dear Mother, we\n     will meet Him--Jesus--in Heaven. Oh! I do not want the pleasures\n     of this life! I do want to be, like you, His humble follower. How\n     I wish I could be near you always that your faith might ever\n     increase my own. I need, very much I need, the pure and tender\n     influence of a holy praying \"mother.\" My own mother had a loving\n     heart, but neither she nor my father did I ever see praying. My\n     precious Saviour was never revealed to me from the lips of\n     either. What would have become of me had God deferred this\n     discipline? Would I not have gone on in sin until too late, even\n     had I been sent here for a short term of years? My only thought\n     would be for them to end, that I might pursue again the delusive\n     hopes of sin.\n\n     I fully realize my position here. I see the providence of God\n     that makes it a blessing.\n\n     I would tell you the way Jesus came to me, or rather how I came\n     to Him. When first I came here I did not think of what was in\n     store for me--eighteen years of prison life. I was wild and\n     thoughtless. The strangeness of the place helped to divert my\n     mind, but the solitude of my cell at night forced me to look into\n     the future. At length my fate dawned upon me. Oh! it was\n     terrible! During the day I would try to forget the thoughts of\n     the night by being more wild than ever, but the night brought the\n     ordeal again and it was driving me to despair. I longed to be\n     dead, but one night the thought came: \"Suppose you were dead,\n     what then? Would you be at rest?\" I say thought, but if ever the\n     Holy Spirit spoke to the soul of man, it spoke to mine that\n     night. In an instant I saw the enormity of my sins and the\n     punishment in store for me. In terror I cried: \"O, what shall I\n     do? Oh, I cannot die! I cannot meet this doom!\" Need I say that\n     my cry was not in vain? No, the spirit of Jesus taught me of\n     Himself that night, and the Chaplain showed me some words in the\n     gospel of John. I never read the Bible before, but there were\n     Christ's words, and those words I now read often. The Psalms and\n     St. John contain for me the Way of Life.\n\n     I do not forget you in my feeble prayers morning and night, and I\n     hope you will be indeed my \"Mother\" for Jesus' sake. Amen.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                                   June 16, 1890.\n\n     My Dear Friend and Spiritual Mother:\n\n     I thank you very much for your kind letter, which I received\n     today. I pray that you may die in the harness, leaving your work\n     to just pass over the river into Heaven.\n\n     Have you heard that our dear Chaplain's helpmeet has recently\n     taken this journey? The Chaplain takes it just as one would\n     expect he would, calmly, with faith unabated, rather increased,\n     for he said to me the day after the funeral: \"The peace of God in\n     my heart passeth understanding.\" This evidence of real trust in\n     God's mercy, and that He is and heaven is, has been the means of\n     bringing me nearer to God.\n\n     I am reading a book by \"H. W. S.\" entitled \"Frank: the Record of\n     a Happy Life.\" It is very inspiring. I have been convinced for\n     some time that the higher Christian life was a reality, and had\n     experienced its blessings. But I lived upon the experience,\n     drawing my strength from it and not God, consequently I soon got\n     back to where I was before. But the Holy Spirit has of late been\n     urging me to seek it again, so that I have consecrated myself\n     anew to the Lord, and he has blessed me wonderfully, taking away\n     the irritable feeling that certain trials were sure to bring me.\n     I forget self and think only of doing good to those who before I\n     felt like shunning. It makes me very humble in my happiness. Dear\n     Mother, I am sure you have enjoyed this blessed experience of\n     living moment by moment to God, being kept by Him from all sin\n     and the power of temptation.\n\n     I have read that many Christians do not believe that the blood of\n     Christ cleanseth from all sin. This appears very strange to me. I\n     don't see how they can be so blind. When this blessed thought was\n     shown me I could not help believing it, it seemed so plain, and\n     was really needful for us to have in order to live up to the\n     commands of the gospel.\n\n                                             Tuesday P. M., 17th.\n\n     They are celebrating the Battle of Bunker Hill today. We have had\n     our holiday and are now in our rooms for the rest of the day. It\n     is a perfect summer day, mild, with a refreshing breeze floating\n     through the windows. My bird hangs above me chirping, enjoying\n     himself, while the murmur of voices in the guard room, with now\n     and then the joyous shout of a baby, make me feel like shutting\n     my eyes and imagining myself far away from these stones and bars.\n\n     I firmly believe that an educated Christian who is wholly\n     consecrated shall be used by the Lord where an uneducated one\n     would not. You know it was to Paul, the highly educated, that was\n     intrusted the greatest work of the Apostles, viz: To convert the\n     heathen world. In Athens, the center of intellectual life, he\n     preached, quoting to them from their own poets and converting\n     certain philosophers of whom was Dionysius, one of the city's\n     judges. Intellectual ability is a talent which the Lord requires\n     us to use for His kingdom. We need never fear for education,\n     \"While near the school the church spire stands,\" as the Quaker\n     poet, Whittier, puts it.\n\n     Our prayer meeting is growing both in numbers and in interest. We\n     hold an election of officers today. I resigned the leadership\n     owing to my duties in the library being such that I could not\n     attend regularly. I, however, accepted the place of chairman of\n     the standing committee. The Warden has allowed the teachers of\n     the night school to organize a society for the purpose of general\n     culture. Last Friday the constitution and by-laws were submitted\n     for approval. Next Friday the election of officers will be held.\n     I have been embarrassed by several members asking me to accept\n     the position of president. I know that I am not qualified for the\n     position, but they think otherwise and are persistent. These, and\n     other tokens of regard and respect for me by my fellow prisoners,\n     I am very grateful for.\n\n     It makes me feel, too, that my Christian life here has not been\n     without results among them. They respect my scruples--something I\n     hardly think people outside are in the habit of doing. You will\n     understand that I look upon all this as the Lord's doings, and\n     feel no self-praise over it. To Him be all the praise for giving\n     me the courage and strength to let my light shine before the men\n     in this prison. O! it is good to be on the Lord's side, to let\n     Him order my way. I pray that I may never have a will of my own\n     in this respect. I feel so perfectly willing to remain here and\n     serve Him in my feeble way, only praying that if a larger\n     opportunity comes to me I shall not be found wanting, only\n     believing that with the opportunity will come added strength and\n     power from on high. The Holy Spirit has so witnessed to my\n     spirit that God is and that He is a rewarder of them that\n     diligently seek Him, and that Jesus is my Saviour, that the bare\n     thought of being unfaithful brings intense pain to my soul. No, I\n     can never be happy away from my Saviour. With His faith filling\n     my being, His peace shall abide with me.\n\n     I pray daily for my spiritual \"Mother,\" that the Lord shall bless\n     her in all heavenly places in Christ Jesus, that the Holy Spirit\n     shall rest upon you, giving you the word of truth to speak to the\n     lost souls in all the places you go to.\n\n     With much love, I remain\n\n                    Your son and brother in the Lord,\n                                                       ---- ----.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                                   Oct. 23, 1894.\n\n     My Dear Mother:\n\n     I have been waiting to hear from you so I could write and let you\n     know of the good news that has come to me. I am no longer in\n     prison. I have been let out on parole. This means that I am still\n     a prisoner, but am given larger liberty. I shall not be allowed\n     to leave this city nor engage in mission work, that is to give my\n     whole time to it. I have to report to the secretary of the Board\n     of Prison Commissioners every month. When I get a room I am going\n     to devote the most of my spare time to study. I go to a mission\n     at the North End, but have no regular church connections. I have\n     been living with Mr. ---- since coming out, but will leave him\n     within a week. He has been a good friend to me. He has been so\n     ill all this year that he has been to the prison only a few\n     times.\n\n     I am happy in my new life. The Lord is blessing me wonderfully.\n     There is no other life worth living here below but following in\n     the way of the Lord.\n\n     With much love, I remain\n\n                           Your son in the Lord,\n                                                       ---- ----.\n\n                        A TALENTED YOUNG MAN.\n\nSoon after entering upon prison work, I found in one of our eastern\nprisons the writer of the following letters and articles. He was at\nthat time young, gifted, scholarly and very prepossessing in\nappearance. His penmanship was beautiful, perhaps the most so I have\never seen, but he had fallen under evil influences and the very gift\nthat should have been used for a better purpose proved a curse and at\nthe time I first saw him he was under sentence for forgery. He seemed\nto be clearly converted in a meeting I held in the prison and proved\nfaithful during the remainder of his term. But after he went out into\nthe world I lost trace of him. He was only one among thousands who\nneed sympathy and help and encouragement. I trust that, if living, he\nis still true to himself and to God. Some of his letters follow, also\nthe discourse on the Agony in the Garden in the form of a letter found\nin the appendix is of his writing.\n\n                                                   Oct. 29, 1885.\n\n     To Mrs. ---- Wheaton.\n\n     Madame: Not being able to shake hands, and having thus been\n     deprived of the pleasure of verbally telling you what we had to\n     say, we now have recourse to our pen. Our hearts have heard,\n     understood and treasured your words of last Sunday.\n\n     Dear Lady, yours is a special task. In your field of labor are\n     gathered crowds unnumbered, inert, inanimate, forming, as it\n     were, a great desert, a Dead Sea uninhabited by any living thing.\n     There lies a small world to be reconquered; such are the men who\n     are to be reclaimed. How act upon them? How move their hearts?\n     How gain mastery over them? In these questions lies the secret of\n     the future.\n\n     Holiness in your heart and the omnipotent hand of Jesus in yours\n     cannot fail to bring about the reformation of a host of\n     criminals. He will save them. Oh! climb the heights, display the\n     brilliancy of those universal truths in whose presence every\n     being gifted with reason and accessible to reflection feels\n     compelled to bend the knee. Deeds, examples, striking evidence\n     and incontestable proofs of abnegation, devotedness, charity and\n     sacrifices are required. These are the sermons that awaken souls\n     from their torpor; these the weapons that triumph over the\n     world, however criminal, careless, frivolous and hardened it may\n     be.\n\n                                                          SIGNED.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                                December 1, 1885.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton,\n                      Somewhere in America.\n\n     Let me begin this letter by saying something very true concerning\n\n                     RUM.\n\n       Let thy devotees extol thee,\n         And thy wondrous virtues sum;\n       But the worst of names I'll call thee,\n         O, thou hydra monster, Rum!\n\n       Pimple-maker, visage-bloater,\n         Health-corrupter, idler's mate;\n       Mischief breeder, vice promoter,\n         Credit spoiler, devil's bait.\n\n       Almshouse builder, pauper maker,\n         Trust betrayer, sorrow's source;\n       Pocket emptier, Sabbath breaker,\n         Conscience stifler, guilt's resource.\n\n       Nerve enfeebler, system shatterer,\n         Thirst increaser, vagrant thief;\n       Cough producer, treacherous flatterer,\n         Mud bedauber, mock relief.\n\n       Business hinderer, spleen instiller,\n         Woe begetter, friendship's bane;\n       Anger heater, Bridewell filler,\n         Debt involver, toper's chain.\n\n       Memory drowner, honor wrecker,\n         Judgment warper, blue-faced quack;\n       Feud beginner, rags bedecker,\n         Strife enkindler, fortune's wreck.\n\n       Summer's cooler, winter's warmer,\n         Blood polluter, specious snare;\n       Mob collector, man transformer,\n         Bond undoer, gambler's fare.\n\n       Speech bewrangler, headlong bringer,\n         Vitals burner, deadly fire;\n       Riot mover, firebrand flinger,\n         Discord kindler, misery's sire.\n\n       Sinews robber, worth depriver,\n         Strength subduer, hideous foe;\n       Reason thwarter, fraud contriver,\n         Money waster, nations' woe.\n\n       Vile seducer, joy dispeller,\n         Peace disturber, blackguard guest;\n       Sloth implanter, liver sweller,\n         Brain distracter, hateful pest.\n\n       Wit destroyer, joy impairer,\n         Scandal dealer, foul-mouthed scourge;\n       Senses blunter, youth ensnarer,\n         Crime inventor, ruin's verge.\n\n       Virtue blaster, base deceiver,\n         Spite displayer, sot's delight;\n       Noise exciter, stomach heaver,\n         Falsehood spreader, scorpion's bite.\n\n       Quarrel plotter, rage discharger,\n         Giant conqueror, wasteful sway;\n       Chin carbuncler, tongue enlarger,\n         Malice venter, death's broadway.\n\n       Household scatterer, high-hope dasher,\n         Death's forerunner, hell's dire brink;\n       Ravenous murderer, windpipe slasher,\n         Drunkard's lodging, meat and drink!\n\n     The rum vender's power is something enormous. We do not delude\n     ourselves into thinking that the fight for national prohibition\n     will be easily won. In many respects the liquor dealers will\n     prove an enemy harder to vanquish than the slave dealers were.\n     For slavery was an institution with a local habitation. It was\n     restricted to certain well-defined limits. The whole world knew\n     where it was and what it was doing. But rum is everywhere. Its\n     upholders are woven into the warp and woof of society in every\n     city and hamlet. It has a thousand heads, and it can hide them in\n     times of danger with wonderful facility. Slavery was bold, brazen\n     and defiant. It could be nothing else. But the liquor dealers,\n     with equal bravado and strength, are enabled to resort to the\n     cunning and subtlety of the serpent, when bravado is imprudent.\n\n     Then the liquor dealer's influence over his victims does not end\n     with control of the bodies. His slaves are his allies. He owns\n     them, many of them, body and soul for such a cause. They will\n     fight for rum and vote for rum as persistently as the saloonist\n     himself. These facts may as well be appreciated. When it comes to\n     defiant antagonism, when temperance men boldly array themselves\n     in professed opposition to the traffic in alcohol, the struggle\n     will be severe. But it is certain there will come no time in the\n     future when it will be less severe. The liquor power is _a\n     rapidly growing power_. God knows it is strong enough now, but it\n     becomes stronger with each passing day.\n\n     Are we willing that such a class of men not only hold such an\n     enormous power, but add to it indefinitely? In the census for\n     1880 the capital employed in the manufacture of liquor was over\n     one hundred and eighteen million of dollars, and the number of\n     persons employed in the manufactories and in saloons aggregated\n     over one hundred thousand. No nation can afford to leave such\n     power in the hands of such men. It is suicidal.\n\n     Having _said my say_ about \"Old Devil\" and his \"Clerks\" I guess\n     I'll write a _little_ letter to\n\n     My Dear Sister:\n\n     Your good, kind letter was duly received. We sincerely thank you.\n     When meeting with savages who don't treat you respectfully please\n     ever remember that in M---- everybody who knows you or about you\n     loves you. Mrs. D. told me to write to Mrs. Wheaton because \"_she\n     is a lovely Christian_.\"\n\n     \"O taste and see that the Lord is good.\" Psa. 34:8.\n\n     That is the right way to find out that He is good. We may think\n     He is good, we may have some idea that He is so--but to know it,\n     and to know how very good the Lord is, we must taste his\n     goodness. He alone is good. He is goodness itself; and because He\n     is this, He wants us to taste, to enjoy Him.\n\n     Good men and women, and good children, will one day be like the\n     angels in heaven; and they begin to be such already in this\n     world. If it were not for them, if they were not here to be the\n     bearers of peace and happiness, the ministers of mercy and of\n     love, to wretchedness and woe, to the weary and the bowed down,\n     how wretched would this world be! A thousand blessings upon you,\n     beloved sisters, who, from the goodness of your great big heart,\n     endeavor to do good to others. It is through such holy and\n     devoted daughters of our thrice holy King and Father as Sister\n     Elizabeth that we taste and see how good the Lord is.\n\n     \"You see how large a letter I have written unto you with mine own\n     hand.\" Galatians 6:11. \"I thank my God, making mention of thee\n     always in my prayers.\" Philemon, 4.\n\n     \"Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing\n     that you may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy\n     Ghost.\" Romans 15:13.\n\n     \"Remember them that are in bonds, as bound with them; and them\n     which suffer adversity, as being yourselves also in the body.\"\n     Hebrews 13:3.\n\n     We salute thee, sister.\n\n                       Your real brother in Jesus,\n                                                            L. J.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                               Charlestown, Mass., Oct. 18, 1886.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Sister--John 17:20, 21: \"Everyone members one of another.\"\n     \"If one suffer all suffer.\" I do not know that the relation and\n     consequent influence of member upon member can be better\n     illustrated than by the connection of the body, mind and spirit,\n     and the power that any one of the three has over the other two.\n\n     The mind depends upon the body to carry out its desires, and the\n     mind is in constant subjection to the body in health and in\n     sickness. The body is controlled by the mind as the ship is\n     directed in her course by the man at the helm. The spirit looks\n     out through the eyes of the body and is entranced with the scene\n     of beauty, or is crushed with the sorrow with which it is seized,\n     according as we look upon a thing of beauty or the eye rests upon\n     things withered and dead.\n\n     The life and experience of every man attest the fact that thought\n     and emotion, and the body in which the organs of thought and\n     feeling are placed, are inter-related in such a way and to such\n     an extent that the mind and body control, to a very great extent,\n     the activity of each other. The wise man, looking at the inner\n     life and the outer manifestation of it, from a little different\n     point of view, expresses it thus: \"As a man thinketh in his heart\n     so is he. The spirit of a man will sustain his _infirmity_, but a\n     wounded or broken spirit who can bear?\" Says a writer in the Laws\n     of Health: \"If a man thinks he is an invalid he is one; if he\n     thinks himself incompetent he is incompetent, and so through the\n     whole list.\" By faith in Christ, as true and confiding as the\n     trust of a child; by boldness at the throne of grace; by firmness\n     in resisting temptation, and by resolution in the performance of\n     every duty we are able to maintain the connection we have formed\n     with Christ, the head of the body; to bear the fruit of the vine;\n     to suffer with each other; to be honored with the members of the\n     body, and to rejoice with those who rejoice.\n\n     As the connection of the body, mind, moral nature and spirit is\n     such as to give one part influence over the other parts and the\n     power to modify their health and action, so the relation which is\n     formed with the household of faith, when we come into Christ, is\n     to be honored by striving for the faith of the gospel and by an\n     effort to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.\n\n     If one in Christ now, this oneness can be maintained among the\n     brotherhood in but one way, and that is by being one with Christ\n     and God in purpose, plan and effort for the salvation of men and\n     by striving together for _the faith_ of the gospel. The unity of\n     God's people cannot be maintained by erecting standards of our\n     own--by making our own opinions bonds of fellowship and tests of\n     soundness--by prescribing this and forbidding that. The unity is\n     to be maintained by striving together for _the faith_ of the\n     gospel. The same thing is true with reference to the multitudes\n     who are following Christ as they have learned him. The unity of\n     all these distracted bodies is not to be brought about by any\n     effort to form a union, but by an effort on the part of each one\n     to grow up into Christ, the living Head; by all agreeing to\n     disagree in their opinions; and by all striving together for _the\n     faith_ of the gospel. This lesson is to be taught the world by\n     the disciples of Christ, and if we do not teach the lesson\n     aright, we may expect, and we ought to receive the question: What\n     do ye more than others?\n\n     When we are growing in favor with God and man; when we are\n     increasing in the knowledge of divine things; when our lives are\n     hid with Christ in God; when we are appropriating the spiritual\n     food which God has furnished; when we are proving to the world\n     that we have passed from death unto life; when we are loving each\n     other with pure hearts fervently; when we are continuing\n     steadfast in the apostles' doctrines and in the fellowship, in\n     the breaking of bread and in prayers, we are giving to the world\n     and to professed Christians everywhere a living demonstration\n     that we are striving together for the faith of the gospel.\n\n     \"How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that\n     bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good\n     tidings of good that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion,\n     Thy God reigneth!\"\n\n     Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be\n     in health, even as thy soul prospereth. III John 2.\n\n                               Yours in His love,\n                                                            L. J.\n\n\n                        UNDER DEATH SENTENCE.\n\nIn 1887, I found the writer of the following letters, with nine other\nmen, under sentence of death in the prison at Ft. Smith, Arkansas.\nBefore his cell door stood his wife and four little children. They all\nseemed heart-broken and I was deeply impressed with the sad, touching\nscene. After talking with them and praying for them, I was led to\nbelieve that the man was innocent of the crime for which he and\nanother young man had been condemned. The evidence against them was\npurely circumstantial. The other man was afterward given his liberty,\nbut this one was held, as many believed, for want of money to hire\nlawyers to properly plead his case. I still believe him to be an\ninnocent man.\n\nI left the state a short time before the day set for the execution,\nbut prayed the Lord to let his life be spared if he was innocent. Some\ntime after I learned that he, with several others, had been given a\nlife sentence in the Ohio penitentiary. I went to the President and\nAttorney General in Washington, D. C., several times, trying, if\npossible, to secure his pardon. They were kind and courteous and after\nlooking up the evidence would have granted him a pardon if the judge\nwho had passed the sentence would request it, but he refused to do so\nand finally died. Then all hope seemed gone. The wife died of a broken\nheart. The children all died and the dear old parents, broken-hearted,\nlingered on, hoping against hope, until now they, too, may have passed\naway. But the poor man lingered in prison, with health, hope, friends,\nyouth, all gone; forgotten by the world, waiting for death to end his\nmisery. I say hope gone; I mean, hope for freedom here. His hope of\nheaven proved an anchor to his sorrowing heart. He proved himself a\nconsistent Christian and a good, quiet, obedient prisoner. A letter\nfrom Chaplain Starr, Columbus, Ohio, tells me that he had been finally\npardoned and was released January 4, 1904.\n\nI find in my possession two papers received from Washington regarding\nhis case of which I give the reader verbatim copies:\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                       Department of Justice.\n                             Washington.\n\n     Case of M----, Western District of Arkansas.\n     Offense--Murder.\n     Sentence--To be hanged.\n     Petition for pardon filed March 11, 1899.\n     Commuted to life imprisonment on June 7, 1899.\n\n                                         JAMES F. REED, ESQ.,\n                     U. S. Dist. Atty., Western Dist. of Ark.,\n                                                 Fort Smith, Ark.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                         Department of Justice.\n\n                                Washington, D. C., March 8, 1895.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton,\n           902 H. Street, N. E.\n\n     Sir: The papers in the above case have been referred, in\n     accordance with Department practice, to the United States\n     Attorney for the Western District of Arkansas for his\n     consideration, and he has reported adversely thereon, being of\n     the opinion that the case is not one in which executive clemency\n     should be exercised, trial judge concurring.\n\n     In the absence of a counter showing, the report of the United\n     States Attorney will be considered as disposing of the case.\n\n     By direction of the Attorney General.\n\n            Very respectfully,\n                                          WILLIAM C. ENDICOTT,\n                                   Attorney in Charge of Pardons.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Fort Smith, Ark., Feb. 20, 1889.\n\n     Dear Sister in Christ:\n\n     Yours at hand. It found a small portion of us praying to God for\n     aid. We keep up our prayer meeting. There is but three of us who\n     attend regular. It is myself and Mr. M. and T. We want to do all\n     we can to save our souls. I am one who is to be executed on the\n     19th and I am ready to go if God says for me to go. I am sure to\n     meet you in Heaven where there is no unjust court. I want you to\n     pray for me in good faith, for the prayers of the righteous are\n     powerful and I want you to remember the day I am to die and pray\n     for my soul to go to God where I can see everlasting enjoyment.\n\n     I am sad, sister. It hurts my heart to think I have been a good,\n     affectionate man on earth and now I must die for the wicked world\n     or man's evil. I forgive all and will die an innocent man. \"God\n     receive my soul\" is my prayer.\n\n     Brother and sister B. came and prayed for us last week. Write me\n     again and I will give you all the news.\n\n                              Yours truly,\n                                                           M----.\n\n     I had to stop writing to get to prayer meeting and I tell you, we\n     had a good time. It does me good to get to say a word for Jesus,\n     in jail or out. I am as happy as anyone could be in prison, I am\n     sure. I am blessed with a sure love of God who can save or\n     destroy. We don't have preaching very often in here. There are\n     ten in here who are found guilty of murder. It is no wonder\n     people think they can't get justice. I am sure it is on account\n     of so many bad people being in the territory and around it.\n\n     I am thankful I am even spared to see a few more days and to let\n     me have more time to try for justice. I am doing all I can and so\n     are my friends and relatives. I have a good father and mother to\n     pray for me day and night and am sure there is many a prayer gone\n     to Jesus in my behalf.\n\n     Hoping to hear from you soon, I say good-bye. I am,\n\n                      Yours very truly,                    M----.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                            Fort Smith, Arkansas, March 13, 1889.\n\n     Dear Sister in Christ:\n\n     Yours at hand. It found me well and still pleading to God to\n     prepare my soul to meet my fate on the 19th of April. It is an\n     awful day for me to think of. I do hope and pray to God I won't\n     be put to death in such a cruel manner. I don't deserve such a\n     death, or any punishment at all for the accused crime. I don't\n     fear death, but I don't want to disgrace so many good people as\n     it will be a disgrace on all my relatives and me as clear of\n     murder as a child, and I don't believe God will allow me to be\n     put to death without a cause, but if God tells me to go on the\n     scaffold I will obey Him.\n\n     I had a dear brother come to see me this week, and when he left\n     me it just looked like it was the last sight of the dear brother,\n     although he said, \"I will come to see you again before ----,\"\n     then he choked down and went away. He meant, \"Before you are\n     executed.\" It would do my dear old parents an awful sight of good\n     to get a letter from you, stating what I said in regard to a\n     future home. I do wish you would write them.\n\n     We keep up our prayer meeting as regular as the time comes,\n     except we are hindered by a good cause. Seldom we miss our\n     meeting and prayers together. I am sorry to say there is only\n     three of us and I am all the doomed one of the three. I want you\n     when you are visiting prisons in Texas to inquire for a man by\n     the name of John H., as I have heard he was arrested in Texas\n     somewhere and was in jail. This is the same name as the man we\n     are accused of killing, and it may be the same man. I wrote to\n     Paris, Texas, but he was not there. If you find him let me know\n     at once. You can ask him if he ever knew Henry M. and William W.\n     He might deny us, so you can give me a description and I can tell\n     if it is him. Ask him of what nationality he is.\n\n     God bless you all and send me relief at the last hour. Amen. I\n     am,\n\n                   Your true and affectionate brother in Christ,\n                                                           M----.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                            Fort Smith, Arkansas, April 11, 1889.\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton,\n\n     Dear Sister in Christ:\n\n     Your kind and welcome letter at hand. I hope you are being\n     blessed by our Almighty God. I am sure you are worthy of great\n     praise in well-doing. I am very sorry to inform you I am not\n     pardoned yet, but I thank God I have been respited till June 29.\n     It was thankful news for me and I am sure it is the power of our\n     God who wants justice done in everything here on earth. Oh, what\n     a great promise Jesus has promised us all if we will humble\n     ourselves and get low down at his feet! I am one that wants to\n     bow as low as I am required. I am a servant for Jesus as long as\n     I remain in this sinful world.\n\n     I am so glad my dear old pa wrote you. I don't get any letters\n     from him. I suppose he writes so pitiful to me the jailer won't\n     let me have his letters. I do not know any other cause. I receive\n     letters from my brothers and sisters regular. I thank you for the\n     letter father sent you. My misfortune is an awful burden on their\n     poor, old and feeble hearts, but I pray God to stay them and help\n     them to bear their sorrows and I am sure He will do so.\n\n     Mr. W., my partner, is granted a free pardon and the President\n     did not have time to investigate the evidence in my behalf, so he\n     respited me for further investigation. Several of the senators\n     are taking an anxious part for me and it is thought I will get a\n     pardon. I trust in God I will be set free and can be able to help\n     catch sinners for Jesus; I am sure I am willing.\n\n     I am sorry to inform you Brother M. was convicted of a brutal\n     murder as the evidence shows. I hope he is not guilty, but we\n     must not say.\n\n     It is a sad place here. Brother George B. and Brother T. have\n     gone back in the world. There is nothing done for Brother George\n     yet and his time is short.\n\n     The President refused to do anything for M., that one-armed\n     colored man, so he must meet his Jesus on the 19th of this month.\n     There is three more, but the President has not ruled on their\n     cases yet. I don't know whether they will be hung or not. I hope\n     not. God help them all.\n\n     I want you to please write me. It does me good to read a letter\n     from you. Write soon.\n\n                                                           M----.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                   Fort Smith, Ark., May 1, 1889.\n\n     Dear Sister in Christ:\n\n     Yours at hand. It found us all in good health, and for myself, I\n     am looking to Jesus. We still keep up our prayer meeting. It is\n     a great comfort for me to get to tell Jesus how I feel and to\n     hear the other brothers pray and talk for Him. Of course I know\n     it is hard for me and some others to bear this punishment, yet I\n     feel the kindness of our kind Saviour in my poor, sad heart. I\n     only ask God to save my life and I am willing to spend the rest\n     of my days in his service. I can only trust God that all will\n     come out right.\n\n     I will tell you of the dear ones who were hung on the 19th. It\n     was J. M. and A. Both were colored men. M. had the Catholic\n     priest pray for him and he said he was going to heaven. He was\n     very moody and pale; but he seemed to know his doom. Poor fellow!\n     God pity us all, for we have souls to save. A. joined the\n     Methodist church and was baptized the same day he was hung. He\n     was the bravest soldier I ever heard of. He smiled and said,\n     \"Good-bye, Henry.\" I had to shed tears to see and feel the nerves\n     quivering when he and I both knew that it was death caused the\n     quivering of his pulse. Poor boys! They are better off than I am,\n     if they had made their peace with God.\n\n     Brother M. was convicted and is sentenced to be hung July 17.\n     There is five to be hung on that day. One colored man and one\n     Indian woman and one Indian man and F. C. and Brother M. Myself\n     and George B. got a respite. His is till June 21 and mine till\n     June 29. W. got a free pardon and I am held on the same evidence.\n     It is because I was poor and did not send a man to plead for me\n     at Washington, but people think I will come out all right yet. I\n     leave it all to God, who can do me justice without money.\n\n     For the sake of each poor unfortunate soul you may chance to\n     meet, I ask God to be near you and show and tell you a word to\n     say to the poor condemned ones--a comforting word for their\n     souls' sake. Joy and peace be with you. You have my prayers, as\n     weak as they are. Jesus be with us all. Amen.\n\n     Write me soon.\n\n                                                           M----.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                   Ft. Smith, Ark., May 20, 1889.\n\n     Dear Sister in Christ:\n\n     Yours at hand. It found us all well but Mr. T. He has been\n     complaining, but he is better now. We were blessed with Mr. and\n     Mrs. B. to sing and pray for us this morning and it was a great\n     comfort to us all. She was refused at first, but after she came\n     in and told us we sent her to Mr. C. and he told her to \"sing and\n     pray for those men as much as she wanted to.\" It is queer for a\n     living being to not want the distressed to find relief, but it\n     seems as though there was but little mercy shown us here, and,\n     dear sister, I am sure there are some good hearts in here and God\n     surely will not allow them to be put to death. Yet it has been\n     done, and it can be done again, and I am not trusting in a single\n     word or act of man. I am reading my Bible and asking God to open\n     my heart to all faith and charity and reveal all the required\n     secrets to my heart so I can become one of his children in faith\n     and be sanctified in Him. I am so glad you wrote me. It does me\n     good to hear from you. Write soon, as I can only stay here till\n     June 21. Good-bye.\n\n                                                           M----.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Columbus, Ohio, March 30, 1890.\n\n     Dear Sister in Christ:\n\n     Yours found me in some better health than I was when you last saw\n     me. I am so glad you will continue to write me. Like all other\n     persecuted souls, I sometimes think I have no friends. But it\n     cannot be so in my case.\n\n     I do not faint or shudder at the idea of dying in prison. It is\n     just as near heaven from this prison as it would be if I was at\n     home in the tender care of dear parents and brothers and sisters.\n     Yet I cannot say I am as happy here as there at home. I am not. I\n     feel sure my time is short in this world. I have a hard time. I\n     am in a sea of tears daily. Oh, it is so hard to be bound and\n     shut out from a free world, but this is all for some purpose,\n     unknown to me at present, but by the help of God, I my burden\n     will bear.\n\n       \"I'll praise my Maker while I've breath,\n       And when my voice is lost in death,\n       Praise shall my nobler powers employ\n       In that Eternal World of joy.\"\n\n         \"Lord, remember me for good,\n           Passing through this mortal veil;\n         Show me the atoning blood\n           When my strength and spirit fall.\n         Give my sorrowing soul to see\n         Jesus crucified for me.\"\n\n     \"May God be your helper and bless you,\" is my prayer continually.\n\n     I do not aim to impress on your mind that I am punished by the\n     prison laws, for I am not. I haven't had a bit of trouble with\n     any one since I came into this institution. I have to work hard\n     and I do more than I ought to, but I am afraid I won't please my\n     superiors in power over me. I put in many a sleepless night from\n     weariness of my daily labors. But I could not stand any\n     punishment, so I had better over-do myself than to be over-done.\n     My sorrow is now as much as I can bear. I am in need of all good\n     praying people's prayers, so I ask you and your friends to pray\n     for me.\n\n     I am honored with all the attire of a first-grade-prison man. I\n     have the red stripes you told me to get and my mustache. The boys\n     you know are well.\n\n                                                           M----.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                                  Columbus, Ohio.\n\n     Dear Sister in Christ:\n\n     Blessed be our God! He has saved us thus far and has given us an\n     ark to carry us over Jordan, safe to Eternity. We, as fallen men,\n     sometimes err in thinking we are not under God's protection, but\n     I say we are. Jesus came, not to bring saints, but sinners to\n     repentance. It is not the righteous that are called, but sinners.\n     There is only one way and that is by Jesus Christ, and that is to\n     humble ourselves to all that is right. Life has yet many\n     opportunities for serving God and his Church. Hitherto the Lord\n     has brought me and still in his loving hands I will cheerfully,\n     hopefully rest and trust till the shadows of earth shall be\n     changed for the sunlight of eternity, when my heavenly home is\n     reached, to be blessed forever with the Lord.\n\n     Sister, Brother M. says \"God bless you,\" and you have his\n     prayers. Bro. F. C. says he hopes to see you soon. Bro. B. is all\n     right as far as I know. They all say write to them. Bro. T. has\n     forgotten his pledge. May God soften his heart again to say \"Thy\n     will be done.\"\n\n     I close by asking you to write soon. God bless you and all\n     co-workers.\n\n     Good-bye,                                           M. ----.\n\n\n                      SENTENCED FOR LIFE.\n\nEarly in my prison work I found in one of our penitentiaries a man\nsentenced for life who claimed to have acted only with the motive of\nself-defense. That man is still confined in prison, though he is one\nof the best of prisoners and has given evidence of being a good,\nChristian man, worthy of pardon. I wrote to the governor once in his\nbehalf, but too late to avail anything, as his term of office was just\nexpiring. While that poor man has been held there, pardons have been\ngranted to Chinamen, Spaniards and other foreigners who were wicked\nand guilty, yet this Christian man has been kept in confinement all\nthese long years, until there is only one other besides himself who is\nnow left of the prisoners who were there on my first visit. The other\nhas gone insane and I have feared that the one of whom I write would\nlose his mind also. His article on the need of prison reform entitled\n\"Meditations of a Prisoner,\" found in another chapter, will, I\nbelieve, commend itself to every fair-minded reader.\n\nI give a few selections from his letters. I feel sure he should be a\nfree man. O the indifference of those who have the power to free such\nworthy cases and will not! May God give power to the faint and grace\nto the afflicted and let us pray God to show the governors of our land\nto whom to give pardon and freedom and from whom to withhold.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 State Prison, December 21, 1902.\n\n     Dear Mrs. Wheaton:\n\n     Your kind and welcome letter received and I was very glad to hear\n     from you and I do hope you will soon be strong again. The world\n     needs many Mother Wheatons, so it can ill afford to lose you, but\n     if the Lord calls you home we must all submit, for He does all\n     things for the best.\n\n     I was much surprised to see by your letter that you had written\n     to Governor S. in my behalf. From my heart I thank you, dear\n     Sister, and may God bless you for your kindly interest in me. But\n     Governor S. will leave the office tomorrow and the newly-elected\n     Governor will take his seat. It is too bad that you have gone to\n     all that trouble for nothing. But the fact that you did so will\n     always be most gratefully remembered by myself and Charles G. He\n     also wants me to send his kind regards and thanks for your good\n     will to him.\n\n     When you have your book ready please send me one. Could you say\n     about when it will be ready? I suppose you would like to know how\n     we spent Christmas. It was spent in the dining-room, but we had a\n     nice dinner and were kindly remembered by the Warden and Chaplain\n     and everything was very nice and pleasant.\n\n     I will close with kind regards and best wishes, and may God bless\n     you.\n\n     Sincerely yours in the Master's service,\n\n                                                               E.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     State Prison, Aug. 19, 1903.\n\n     Dear Mrs. Wheaton:\n\n     I have just received your welcome letter and was very glad to\n     hear from you, also to know that you were well. It is a wonder\n     you never get tired of traveling so much. When I think of how you\n     are constantly battling for the right in the interest of lost\n     sinners as we are it brings forth the thought in my mind--does it\n     pay? If one only looks at the general result he can but say--it\n     does not pay that one pure life should be worn out in the cause\n     when so few are made to see the error of their ways and turn to\n     the path of truth and right along the way of righteousness.\n\n     But again, if one life is truly brought into the light and a soul\n     saved, then we must admit it pays. And I know that your\n     pilgrimage of mercy brings forth good, for all who know you speak\n     kindly of you. Well, if a little spark of love is kindled in the\n     heart of the most hardened by the kindly deeds of another, who\n     can tell how great that spark may become? So let us not weary of\n     well doing but press on, hoping for the best and accepting the\n     worst in true Christian resignation.\n\n     I gave your message of love to all the men here. All were glad to\n     hear from you. O, my dear friend, I am so often troubled in heart\n     by the attitude of some people. Certainly I have been very\n     sinful. I have fully realized all that was wrong in my life. It\n     has been my endeavor to cast it all out of my life and to build\n     on a foundation of righteousness and faith in its place. I have\n     been blessed in my effort by the help of many who I feel have a\n     personal interest in me. At the same time no man has been more\n     inhumanly treated by those who profess to be Christians than I\n     have been and am.\n\n     Yes, my friend, we are commanded to pray for such people. This I\n     have done for nine years, but the persecution still goes on. May\n     God forgive them.\n\n     Now, a few words about the prison. Everything is changed here. We\n     have all new officers and guards, also another Governor. The\n     Chinese cook you spoke to was pardoned last January. I was\n     denied.\n\n     I am, with love, your sincere friend,\n\n                                                               E.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                                January 24, 1904.\n\n     Dear Sister:\n\n     Your welcome letter duly received and I was glad to hear from you\n     and to know that you were well.\n\n     Well, sister, I am again denied a pardon. Guess I must die here.\n     Well, \"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.\" Still the lack\n     of a Christian spirit is felt as rendered to me. You remember the\n     Chinaman who was cook for the Warden? Well, he was pardoned,\n     likewise several Indians and many others who were without faith,\n     but Christians--oh, well, prison is a good place for them it\n     seems.\n\n     With kind love and best wishes to you, I remain,\n\n                        Yours in His service,\n                                                               E.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     State Prison, Feb. 29, 1904.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton:\n\n     Yours received and I was glad to hear from you. I am getting\n     along very nicely, but the heart is often sad. Oh, I was so much\n     disappointed, and while I was almost heart broken over it I have\n     also felt sorry for the friends that stood by me. Why, just think\n     of it--there are five members on the Board of Pardon, and they\n     all voted against me! So you see it is not the Governor alone who\n     is against me, but every one of them.\n\n     My dear friend, I don't think you would be able to do anything\n     for me. The Lord is strong certainly, but the ones who have my\n     freedom in their power leave the commands of the Lord out of the\n     question. Read the 18th chapter of Matthew, from the 21st verse\n     to the last of the chapter, and you will see what I mean.\n\n     Now, dear sister, may God help, bless and comfort you in this\n     seemingly cold world of ours, is the prayer of your friend,\n\n                                                               E.\n\n\n           FAITHFUL INSIDE AND OUTSIDE OF PRISON WALLS.\n\nAnother case with which I was very much impressed in the early days of\nmy missionary work was that of a young man of rare ability, gifted and\nsensible, who was spending a term in one of our United States prisons.\nHe was converted and began working for God among the other prisoners.\nAfter faithfully serving his time, he left the prison with good\nprospects. He was taken into an office and did exceedingly good\nservice for the company, also for God and souls,--his past being known\nonly to his pastor, employers and prison officials. After several\nyears he married a most estimable lady who was doing missionary work.\nThey prospered well. He was promoted from one position to another. For\nnineteen years he has lived a devoted Christian. All who know him\nhonor and respect him. His wife has recently passed over to the\nkingdom of heaven. He is still living a true and noble life and he is\nonly one of many who have served time inside of prison walls, who are\nliving for God outside and for Heaven at last. I quote a few extracts\nfrom letters received from him during the time of his incarceration.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     In Prison, January 12, 1885.\n\n     My Dear Friend:\n\n     Your kind note was received and I was very much pleased to hear\n     from you, but was pained that you should think for a moment that\n     I was forgetting you. Since you left us we have had several very\n     earnest and interesting meetings--the fruit of your presence and\n     labor among us. Praise God, He can find his way inside prison\n     walls as well as outside. He is no respector of person. Many men,\n     not before confessing Christ or even anxious sinners, have stood\n     up manfully for prayers and may God give them grace to accept and\n     believe. It is very simple, my dear sister, is it not? How I wish\n     that all could see it! It only means total surrender to Him, to\n     give up the old longings and desires and trust Him from day to\n     day. Then comes the \"perfect peace\" which is vouchsafed to them\n     whose mind is stayed on God. Of course, you will see us again.\n     Our dear Chaplain and Warden are doing everything possible for\n     the spiritual welfare of all the men. The Warden dignified our\n     first meeting by giving us his personal religious experience at\n     the commencement of the service, and he is willing and anxious to\n     encourage in every way possible the religious sentiment now\n     prevailing. As for our Chaplain, I do not believe there is his\n     equal. I who am so closely associated with him can truly testify\n     to his untiring zeal in behalf of all of us. If ever there was a\n     living man, free from any selfish or worldly motives, I believe\n     it is he. The moral tone has been increasing ever since he came\n     among us. I shall not feel at all slighted if you save your\n     strength and time by not writing to me. Just send me some little\n     message by F. or any others (for I see them all daily), and I\n     shall be just as well pleased. It is not because I do not like to\n     have you write me, but I had rather spare you, or help you.\n\n     If you will let me know the address of that dear lady at Raleigh\n     whom you stayed with, I will gladly make her something and would\n     like very much to make something for any other of the dear\n     friends who are good to you on your pilgrimage of love and mercy.\n     Shall not forget to make something for your brother. May God\n     bless and keep you and make his face to shine upon you for many\n     years yet to come, and may we finally meet in heaven where there\n     shall be no more parting and sorrow.\n\n     Your loving brother in Christ,\n\n                                                            C. W.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                                  August 8, 1886.\n\n     My Dear Friend:\n\n     Do you think we have forgotten you? Why, no indeed! We think and\n     speak of you almost daily, but you are moving so that we hardly\n     know where to locate you. A day or two ago L., who is my friend,\n     got a postal card from you, and as he cannot write, by permission\n     just now and I have the privilege to do so, I drop these few\n     lines for him as well as for myself.\n\n     How glad we are to know the Lord has prospered your work. How\n     literally is the promise of Christ fulfilled, \"Lo, I am with you\n     alway, even unto the end of the world.\" It seems so wonderful\n     that all people are opening their doors to Christian workers, the\n     doors which a few years ago were closed and to be opened only\n     through the power of God, who, as Daniel said, would \"set up a\n     kingdom which shall never be destroyed,\" but it shall break in\n     pieces and consume all these kingdoms and shall stand forever.\n     Our Sabbath School is not in session this month but will renew\n     its course the first of September. We like our new Warden very\n     well. Our dear Chaplain is still with us and is quite well and\n     engaged as ever in his life work. His place would be very hard to\n     fill here. I have been reading this morning the 34th Psalm--\"all\n     my fears,\" \"all his troubles,\" \"all his afflictions\"--a\n     deliverance from all. \"There is no want to them that fear Him.\"\n     This Psalm is full of comfort. Praise His name! We can find help\n     and comfort in any part of His holy Word. We all pray for God's\n     blessing upon you and your work and for the conversion and\n     salvation of all whom you minister unto. It does not seem too\n     great a thing to ask of the Lord. Both L. and F. send their love\n     to you and L. will write you soon. Also Mr. A. and Mr. R. and\n     many more send love and best wishes. I shall always consider you\n     my friend, and if in the Providence of God we shall never meet in\n     this world I hope to meet you with recognition in our eternal and\n     glorious home above.\n\n                          Truly your friend,\n                                                               C.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                                January 29, 1890.\n\n     My Dear Friend and Mother:\n\n     Your letter received yesterday made me very happy. It was so good\n     of you to write so soon and send such a nice long letter, too. I\n     trust I am getting to value a letter from you as I ought, as I\n     realize more and more how your time is so zealously occupied and\n     needed. I have ever valued your letters for the help they gave\n     me, but I value them now for their scarcity. In the future, when\n     perhaps you may be no more, I shall esteem them among my most\n     valued treasures. Yet I may be called first! We know not the\n     hour, whether in youth, or old age, or in our prime when the\n     angel of death shall come to summon us to eternity. \"Watch\n     therefore, be ye also ready,\" are words that I try to keep ever\n     in mind, or rather to keep my mind so stayed on Christ that\n     moment by moment He shall keep me saved so that I shall never\n     need to whip myself into keeping watch for my Lord. I am glad you\n     believe in and have the blood cleansing freedom from all sin. It\n     is an experience that meets with much opposition from worldly\n     Christians and from some whose good works follow them. These\n     latter really enjoy the experience, but are prejudiced at the\n     name given to it by others. I know that it meets with much\n     opposition. The \"Christian Witness\" comes to the prison every\n     week. It is an exponent of holiness and very interesting, as well\n     as spiritual. I have a magazine which contains a story of an\n     ex-convict which would do some good to those who think there is\n     no hope or reform for such an individual. I shall mail you the\n     magazine, and if you can read it do so and give it to others to\n     read.\n\n     After a silence of several years my father has written me again.\n     You know he is living in C. and was formerly an instructor in the\n     State Prison at S. He is now old and broken in health, making him\n     incapable for steady work, so he is residing at a soldiers' home.\n     He expresses great anxiety in regard to my future, thinking me\n     friendless, etc. I have written him a long letter reviewing the\n     principal incidents of my prison life. How good God has been to\n     me and how my mind is at rest as regards the future because I\n     have left it in His hands. To find favor with my God is all I\n     desire. Having that, whatever my condition I shall be like St.\n     Paul, content. That is my view of a successful future or life.\n     Wealth, power, ability, all things that men aspire to in this\n     life, do not make or lead to success in my mind. Nothing but the\n     favor of God brings it to man, and that favor comes through the\n     \"washing of regeneration and the renewing of the Holy Ghost.\" Oh,\n     I am so glad that I know this--even me! How can man doubt the\n     wondrous love of God when He is so patient to all who will but\n     look and see. Well, said someone, that they do not want to look\n     and see lest they should be healed and be saved. My poor old\n     father is a church-member, but I fear he knows nothing about Holy\n     Ghost religion, Jesus Christ's religion, pure and undefiled. I\n     want to do just right all of the time. I know my heart is right\n     because I hate sin and love righteousness. If the Lord has no\n     other work for me when I leave here, I would like to labor under\n     your guidance. When are you coming this way again? I would love\n     to greet you once more before I die.\n\n                                                               C.\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n       From every nodding flower, from every whispering breeze\n       From mountain's lofty height, from towering trees,\n       From softly twinkling star, from lightning's giddy flash,\n       From the softest twitter of a bird and thunder's awful crash,\n       From hills the ants may call their own,\n       From crested elders 'round their throne,\n       From babbling brook, from storm-lashed wave,\n       From nature smiling, nature grave,\n       From earth and air, from sky and sea,\n       There comes the self same voice to me,\n       Like softest note of cooing dove,\n       And sweetly whispers, \"GOD IS LOVE.\"\n\n                                                  --_A Prisoner._\n\n[Illustration: ADMINISTRATION BUILDING, MITCHELVILLE, IOWA.]\n\n[Illustration: CAMPUS AND PLAYGROUND, GIRLS' INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL,\nMITCHELVILLE, IOWA.]\n\n\n\n\n                            CHAPTER VII.\n\n          Letters from Co-workers, and Some of My Prison Girls.\n\n\nIn speaking of prisoners or of those within prison walls many think\nonly of men being found there. This is due doubtless to the few women\ncompared to the number of men found in these places. In my efforts to\ndo good to all, I have been especially mindful of those of my own sex,\nand have ever endeavored to encourage and lift up my sisters who have\nfallen victims to sin and misfortune. I give in this chapter a few\nletters from sisters who are directly interested in the care and work\nfor the prison bound; also extracts from letters from a number of my\nprison girls. The co-operation in my work and the kindness and\nhospitality ever shown me by the sisters, matrons, wives of officers,\netc., are especially appreciated, and all these dear ones are often\nremembered at the throne of divine grace. These too shall all share in\nthe fruit of the toil and labor in the final reckoning. Neither will\nmy girls whom I have tried to help, that have shown their appreciation\nand have tried to serve the Lord, be forgotten.\n\nWomen who are the victims of sin and are condemned by society and the\nlaw, have as much right to be restored and encouraged when they amend\ntheir ways, as have men. The following letters are, I believe,\nsufficiently explanatory in themselves, and may be read with interest.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Huntsville, Texas, Aug. 19, 1904.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     Mr. Baker, Superintendent of Prison, said he would like for you\n     to visit our prison once a year; they all were pleased with you.\n     Dear Mother, please pray for little George, that he may be truly\n     converted to God and take an interest in his studies. It seems\n     that he has no desire for them. My greatest aspiration is to live\n     to see him saved and have an education. How my heart goes out for\n     him! I feel that I won't be with him long. I sometimes think that\n     I had rather see him put away before I go, then I would know\n     where he was. When you go to the Faith Home pray for us that if\n     it be God's will that I may be relieved of afflictions and that\n     my husband may be able to do a great and lasting work for the\n     poor unfortunate men. Dear mother, I write you because I have\n     confidence in you. May God bless you.\n\n                                              MRS. MARY MCDONALD.\n\n     (Wife of Chaplain at Huntsville, Tex., a great sufferer.--E. R.\n     W.)\n\n[Illustration: CHAPLAIN'S RESIDENCE, HUNTSVILLE, TEXAS.]\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n     My Dear Mrs. Wheaton:\n\n     Your letter to one of our boys was handed to me by him today. I\n     enjoyed reading it, and want to write you at once. I think V. was\n     very seriously impressed by your service here, although I have\n     not yet had an opportunity to talk with him as I have wanted to.\n     He was sick yesterday and not in school. Tomorrow I hope to see\n     him again. I am so glad that you had the opportunity of seeing\n     his parents. I know they will be greatly benefited spiritually by\n     your visit. I am sure our blessed Lord leads you, as you carry\n     peace and comfort wherever you go. Dear Mother, you comforted me.\n     I was impressed, as I have never been before, by the _power of\n     prayer_, and I know your prayers are heard and answered. This\n     text came to me _over and over_ while you were here, \"The\n     effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.\" I\n     felt instinctively that your prayers could help me. Oh, my\n     friends! I _appeal_ to you to pray for me. I may be here only\n     until April, but if God has work here which He wishes _me_ to do,\n     I know He will order it that I shall stay longer. But I do want\n     to be _filled_ with His Holy Spirit, that while I stay I may do\n     _everything_ that is possible to warn and encourage these poor\n     fallen brothers to seek a Savior's love and forgiveness. I _want_\n     a power which I feel _might_ be mine, but it has not yet come. I\n     want to reach the boys and tell them of Christ's love, but I have\n     not the power of speech. I cannot convince them that _my_ Savior\n     is their Savior too. So often they say to me, \"Well, I guess that\n     kind of a life is the best kind to lead after all, but I never\n     will make a start in a place of this kind.\"\n\n     The next day after you left one boy said to me that he had never\n     before heard a talk that had impressed him as he was impressed\n     Tuesday. I believe he is seriously awakened. I think _three_\n     others are, also, beside the one of whom I told you the day you\n     left. I think V. is one.\n\n     There is a boy here who says he heard you in Kansas City eight or\n     nine years ago. He was not at service, but saw and recognized\n     you. He thought you would know him if you saw him.\n\n     Yours in Christian love,\n\n                                                  FANNIE A. HOYT,\n                                   (Teacher and wife of Officer.)\n\n    Buena Vista, Colo., Oct. 24, 1896.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Atlanta, Ga., Nov. 12, 1893.\n\n     Dear Mrs. Gore:\n\n     This will introduce to you Mrs. Wheaton and Mrs. ----, Prison\n     Evangelists. You will be so glad to meet them and they to meet\n     you and talk about our dear boys \"shut in.\"\n\n     God bless you.                         MRS. CHARLTON EDHOLM.\n\n     Mrs. A. B. Gore, Oakland, Cal.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Anamosa, Ia., Nov. 20, 1893.\n\n     Dear Mrs. Wheaton:\n\n     Anna H. has written you about the death of Emma S. She had a hard\n     cold, not so bad as some of the girls, however, when she left\n     here. We tried to persuade her to remain here over Sunday, where\n     it was warm, as it was very cold and stormy. She, however,\n     insisted upon going. We of course could not compel her to stay,\n     although we felt it was for the best. When she reached Algona she\n     was too sick to go into the country five miles where she was\n     going to stay. Tuesday morning she was taken out, and Thursday\n     afternoon died with La Grippe or Pneumonia. Several of the women\n     here have had La Grippe. All seem to be improving, as I insist\n     upon their taking excellent care of themselves.\n\n     Now, Mrs. Wheaton, I hope you will write to Anna, also a letter\n     to all the girls that I can read to them. They will be glad to\n     think you have not forgotten them. Trusting that you are in good\n     health and that you see good results from your labors, I remain\n     your friend,\n\n                                                JENNIE A. POWERS.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                              Jefferson City, Mo., Jan. 25, 1900.\n\n     Dear Sister:\n\n     Your card was received in due time. All glad to hear from you.\n     The quarantine is still on at the prison. No news there. No\n     visitors allowed. No baskets sent in, only money. Mr. Cook has\n     not missed a day at work since last winter. He was off twelve\n     days to visit his dear mother. She will soon pass to the other\n     side. Your card was filled with sadness. Be cheerful and rejoice,\n     for soon you will go to glory to praise Him forevermore. I will\n     write some to Sister Kelley. Write me a long letter. Chaplain P.\n     has been on the sick list. Everything going on nicely. Never had\n     a better warden than now in the last eighteen years that I have\n     known this prison. Hoping to hear of your good health, I am ever,\n\n                                                      CLARA COOK.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Illustration: WOMEN'S PRISON, ALLEGHENY CITY, PA.]\n\n              Western Penitentiary, Allegheny, Pa., June 7, 1904.\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton:\n\n     I am glad to learn that you are about to embody your experiences\n     as a missionary to the inmates of the prisons and penitentiaries\n     of the various states in which you have labored in the name of\n     the Master. It has been no easy work. It has demanded much faith,\n     hope and charity on your part. You have gone with untiring zeal\n     to those who are despised and forsaken on account of their\n     criminal acts.\n\n     In the spirit of our blessed Lord and in obedience to His command\n     you have gone year after year to the habitations of disgrace and\n     sorrow and carried the cheering and helpful promises and the\n     forgiving mercy of our dear Savior.\n\n     You will have a rich reward from our Heavenly Father. I am sure\n     your words of gospel truth and your songs of praise have often\n     touched the hearts of the female prisoners under my care. The\n     most rebellious and hardened have felt and testified to the\n     gracious power of the gospel of love as you have uttered it\n     here. My hope and my prayer is that the Almighty Shepherd may\n     guide, keep and sustain you in this noble work of your life.\n\n                                                   SARAH J ARNER.\n\n     Allegheny, Pa.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                              Allegheny City, Pa., Dec. 31, 1893.\n\n     Dear Mrs. Wheaton:\n\n     I will try and answer your kind and welcome letter which came to\n     hand a few days ago. We were all very glad to hear from you. Our\n     dear sister, Mrs. Jones, is dead. The dear old lady who was up to\n     the workhouse with you when you were here. She was a dear friend\n     to all the girls here, but she has gone home. She can come to us\n     no more, but we can go to her. The last words she said when she\n     was here was good-bye, and that she would meet us all in heaven.\n     We have very nice meetings now and would like to have you with\n     us. We pray for you every day and we want you to pray for us that\n     we may see the right way and that we may go out of here with\n     light hearts and go about doing good.\n\n     We had a nice Christmas. Our Warden treated us with turkey, and\n     we were all so glad that he was so kind to us.\n\n     Well, we will begin a new year tomorrow, and I hope we will lead\n     a different life, a better life, for if we believe in Jesus He\n     will save us; yes, He will keep us through the dark valley. He\n     will go with us to the end, as He has promised, if we will put\n     our trust in Him. I have gained a great victory since you were\n     here. I have forgiven an enemy that I thought I never could\n     forgive.\n\n     Well, I will close by sending you my love, and as I have only one\n     sheet of paper my friend will send this on to you. I remain,\n\n  Your sincere friend,\n                                                          Lucy F.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                              Allegheny City, Pa., Feb. 16, 1896.\n\n     My Dear Mrs. Wheaton:\n\n     I am so glad to hear from you once more. I had been thinking of\n     you so much of late and I asked God to let me hear from you or\n     send you to us, and so you see He answered my prayer. I cannot\n     express how glad we all were to receive your kind and loving\n     letter. It was read to all and I do wish you could have peeked\n     in to see how quiet all were to listen to it, and our two\n     matrons, too, for they do love you.\n\n     I was very sorry to hear of your being so sick, but God has\n     raised you up for He has work for you to do yet. I pray for you\n     every night and morning that He may strengthen you and keep you,\n     for you are to us like the rain is and the sunshine to the\n     flowers, for we know that you do love us poor unfortunate ones.\n\n     Will you please send us the hymns called \"Tell of the Unclouded\n     Day\" and the one called \"When the Pearly Gates Unfold\"? Dear\n     Mother, pray for us all, but pray for me especially, for I am in\n     great sorrow and trials. Pray that God may raise me up friends\n     and that He may keep me.\n\n     Good-bye, hoping to hear from you soon, I remain, yours in\n     Christ,\n\n                                                         LAURA M.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                              Allegheny City, Pa., Feb. 16, 1896.\n\n     My Dear Mother:\n\n     I wish I could tell you how much joy and happiness your letter\n     gave me. It came just at the time when I needed it most. I am\n     sick and feeble, suffering with spine and lung trouble, have not\n     been able to work for the last three weeks. Can go to my meals\n     and wait upon myself, and I have my Jesus with me. Oh, how He\n     comforts and helps make the rough places smooth, and in the\n     lonely hours of the night when the pain is almost beyond\n     endurance, I think of my Savior and what He suffered without sin,\n     and of what a weak coward I am to complain.\n\n     Mother, we are some of us so impatient when we have pain, and I\n     am afraid I am one of those. Please pray for me that I may bear\n     mine with Christian fortitude.\n\n     I hope it may please God to let me live to get out of this place\n     and have a home for myself and baby, and if my dear Mother\n     Wheaton would come and see me and rest herself for a few weeks,\n     would it not be nice? Mother, I am a widow with one child and\n     some means, but not much. Still I intend to use some of my money,\n     when I have control of it, to do good to others. I have suffered,\n     God has opened my eyes and showed me my sins and selfishness of\n     former years, and I thank Him for sparing me to see it in this\n     light.\n\n     Many of the girls that were here when you last visited us have\n     gone out and a good many are going out this year. Pray for them.\n     I pray for you every night. God bless and keep you is the prayer\n     of your friend,\n\n                                               L. R. T. No. 9722.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                              Allegheny City, Pa., Feb. 16, 1896.\n\n     My Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     Your very welcome and unexpected letter received. It is\n     impossible to tell you with what joy and heartfelt gladness we\n     all gathered together to hear it read. You do not know how often\n     your children speak together of you, of where you are and what\n     you are doing and what keeps you so long away from your Western\n     flock. It was so long since last we heard from you that we are\n     beginning to think our Heavenly Father had need of you and had\n     taken you home, but all praise to His name. He has spared you to\n     send us another loving, encouraging message, which we promptly\n     answer in love and sympathy, each one giving a word, although\n     only three different handwritings will be seen. Remember when\n     reading the words that twenty-five of your lone children are here\n     represented in your letter.\n\n     You speak of wishing for your prison children when you were sick.\n     O, how gladly many of us would minister to your wants, to be\n     under the influence of your kind and loving advice, following in\n     your footsteps of love and life as it is in Christ Jesus our Lord\n     and Master. But though we are separated by so many miles, thanks\n     be to the Almighty we can feel the influence of your continued\n     prayers, and many of us are greatly encouraged to keep on\n     striving, knowing that the crowning day will come by and by.\n\n     Each one says: \"Ask Mother Wheaton when she is coming.\" Do not be\n     too long in coming, for some of your dear ones are leaving every\n     month during the spring, and we are anxious to receive your\n     blessing before entering the cold, heartless world of sin and\n     sorrow. Yet some of us will take Jesus with us, and in His name\n     begin life again. Pray for us all that our hearts may be fully\n     and entirely given over to God, with our hands in His hand, be\n     led to the mercy-seat. Yes, dear Mother, we shall, with God's\n     help, \"strive to enter in at the straight gate.\"\n\n     These are the names of those who send you special love and\n     requests for prayer: Emma M., Emma W., Pearl S. (who is very\n     sick), Laura M., Anna M., Ella A.\n\n     With love and best wishes from our matrons, we close, hoping soon\n     to see you.\n\n     Good-bye, God bless and keep you always and send you to us again.\n     All join in best wishes to you.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                              Allegheny City, Pa., Feb. 14, 1897.\n\n     My Dear Mrs. E. R. Wheaton:\n\n     Perhaps you will be surprised to get this letter, but I have\n     heard so much about you that I feel as though I was personally\n     acquainted with you, so I hope you are well, dear Mother, and\n     that you are doing work for the Master and that He will give you\n     a great many souls for your hire.\n\n     O, I do want to see you. Indeed I would like to hear you sing and\n     pray. The girls all want to see and hear you. Pray for them. One\n     woman in here said that you were the only person that ever did\n     pray a prayer that touched her heart and brought tears to her\n     eyes. The old girls talk about you so much to the new ones that\n     they all love you, although they have not seen you. They tell\n     over and over of your love and sympathy and that you know how to\n     reach poor unfortunate souls. You know that they need kind words\n     and a loving smile to cheer up their broken hearts.\n\n     Dear Mother, you know that a smile goes where a dollar cannot go,\n     for it goes to the heart and makes it so very happy.\n\n     Good-bye, hoping to hear from you soon, I remain,\n\n                            Yours truly,\n                                                          LINA S.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                   Allegheny City, Feb. 14, 1897.\n\n     My Dear Mrs. Wheaton--Dear Mother:\n\n     I will say dear, for you are dear to me. O, you do not know how I\n     have been longing to see you and once more hear you sing some of\n     your beautiful hymns. O! just to hear you pray once more in this\n     world. There are only eighteen women of us now, and when you were\n     here last time there were thirty-three.\n\n     O, dear Mother, do make me a special subject of prayer that God\n     may keep me and guide me in the right way. I have been trying to\n     lead a Christian life for six years now. When all earthly\n     friends have forsaken me Jesus comes and speaks to me, and He\n     alone comforts me, and I thank God for a full and free salvation.\n     O bless His holy name! Hallelujah in the highest to God!\n\n     Our matron, Miss S. J. Arner, sends you her best regards. I am\n     very sorry to tell you that Miss Osborn was called home by the\n     death of her sister; pray for her and for me, Laura M., No. 9351,\n     that God may spare my life that I may work for the Master when I\n     am a free woman. The two Morgan sisters send you their love. All\n     of the girls send love to you. Come on a week day and perhaps you\n     can get the widow's mite.\n\n     Good-bye, I remain, yours in Christ,\n\n                                                         LAURA M.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                             Allegheny City, Pa., March 21, 1897.\n\n     Dear Friend:\n\n     I received your very kind and welcome letter and was very glad to\n     hear from you, and dear Mother Wheaton, your letter did me good\n     as I sit and hear it read to me. I shall try to keep it, and get\n     it read often to me, as it does comfort my broken heart. I am a\n     poor orphan girl. My mother died when I was about twelve years\n     old, and I have wandered on in sin and I have fallen by the\n     wayside. Will you pray for me that I may come to live just as you\n     do, my true, strong friend. I do wish I could see you today, to\n     hear you pray and sing. All of the girls wish to see you and hope\n     that you will come on some day through the week so that we can\n     write out a money order for you. Perhaps it may be only a couple\n     of dollars or three, but it will be like the widow's mite.\n\n     I remain, yours truly,\n\n                                                          LINA S.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Allegheny, Pa., March 21, 1897.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Mother: We received your very kind and welcome letter. O, we\n     are so glad that you sent us a letter and some tracts. Mrs. S. J.\n     Arner, our matron, read the letter in the dining-room to all of\n     us and we did enjoy it so much. Indeed I feel that I had a visit\n     from a dear friend. I hope you are well and I pray for you that\n     God may strengthen you in your labors. You have done a great\n     work, but God has more for you to do yet before you shall pass\n     through the pearly gates of Heaven, for you have cheered so many\n     broken hearts. God sent you to cheer those in prisons. I was just\n     thinking today, O, how happy you will be in the end when Jesus\n     shall say unto you: \"Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the\n     Kingdom prepared for you.\" And O, dear Mother, He will say to\n     you: \"I was in prison and ye visited me.\" I am still looking unto\n     Jesus. He has been my only friend for these years in prison. He\n     keeps me day by day and makes me feel happy in prison. He causes\n     me to hear \"songs in the night.\" Pray for me that God may keep me\n     and my children.\n\n     I dreamed that I was sent to preach the gospel to some poor soul\n     and I have dreamed it three times over the same. First time I\n     said, \"No, I cannot do it,\" and the Lord laid me on a bed of\n     sickness, and then I said, \"Lord, I will go.\" I had no rest by\n     night or by day until I consented to go.\n\n     All of the girls join me in love to you. We hope that these few\n     lines may find you well and happy, for you are always so happy\n     and bright. One of the old girls said that your face has such a\n     happy smile on it and a light shines over you while you talk to\n     them. Write soon.\n\n                                                         LAURA M.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\nThis is an extract from a letter by an orphan girl, a type of many\nother poor girls whose fates are equally as sad:\n\n                                       Spokane Falls, ----, 1889.\n\n     O if I was only free, the greatest pleasure of my life would be\n     to go with you and work for God. Your kindness has won my heart.\n     I have never had any one to be kind to me; I have known nothing\n     but sorrow all my life. My past is almost a blank. Dear, kind\n     sister, look on me with pity--a friendless, motherless girl. I am\n     alone in the world. I was drawn into this place through cruel\n     treatment. I have no money, and I am helpless. If God does not\n     have mercy on me, I do not know what will become of me. If I had\n     only a good, kind friend like you to guide me through life, I\n     would have been a far better woman than I am. If God will save me\n     I shall live in the future a life of honor and work for God.\n\n     Pray for me. Tell me in what way I am going to help myself. O\n     sister, I am so troubled; sometimes I think I will end my\n     miserable existence. But I know if I should take my own life\n     that it would be a terrible sin; but how can I help thinking\n     such things in a place like this? No friends, no home, and no\n     money; sick at heart, sick in body, sick in mind.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Lancaster, Neb., Jan. 27, 1895.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, Washington, D. C.\n\n     Our Dear Friend: We received your kind letter of the 7th inst. We\n     were glad to hear from you and to know that you were enjoying\n     good health. Dear Mother, if we may address you thus, we were\n     very glad to hear our friend, Mrs. Beemer, spoken of so well, for\n     she is a friend never to be forgotten. And Mr. Beemer is just a\n     splendid warden, kind to everybody; and we ask you to pray that\n     they may be retained here for another time. Dear Mother, indeed\n     we will know how to appreciate our freedom in the future. Of\n     course you do not know our names, but I will give them in the\n     following words that each sends to you. Hattie and Edna send\n     their regards to you. Nannie says to pray for her. Annie sends\n     her best regards to you and wishes you well. Hattie R. sends love\n     and best wishes. Annie H. is the one who was sick when you were\n     here and sends love to you, and knows that God answered your\n     prayers that she might be restored to health. Effie joins in\n     sending love, and my prayer is that God may bless you and help\n     you in all your good work. So we close for this time, asking you\n     to pray for us poor unfortunate girls.\n\n     We remain, your loving children,\n\n                                H., E., A., N., H., A. and EFFIE.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                      Canon City, March 27, 1899.\n\n     Dear Friend and Mother:\n\n     I know you are my friend and everybody's friend. I heard your\n     kind letter and cannot help writing to you. I cannot write very\n     good, so please excuse mistakes. Your letter found all the girls\n     well. I have often thought of you and wished that I could be a\n     Christian like you; but I am a poor sinner and have been all my\n     life. I never heard one word out of the Bible in my life till I\n     got in jail. I never had any Christian parents, and therefore I\n     am a deep sinner, but I want to do better. My conscience tells me\n     that I must try to be a better woman. I have been a very bad\n     girl, but I think my Savior will forgive me, if I repent in\n     time. Sometimes I nearly go crazy just thinking what a life I\n     have led. O if I would die now what would become of me? I want\n     you to pray for me, mother, for I do believe you can help me by\n     praying for me.\n\n     I have not long in here now. My time expires on the 25th day of\n     December, 1899; pray that I will be a better girl. I want to go\n     home to my brother if I can when I leave here. I am tired of this\n     life. My soul is tired. O, I am so wicked! I have tried to pray\n     the best I knew and I got scared. Something seemed to bother me,\n     and I was afraid to go to sleep. Mother, why do I get scared? Is\n     it because I have sinned so much? But I will try again and again.\n     I am willing to do right and live an honest life, and I will or\n     die in the attempt. I have had a lot of trouble in my life and it\n     drove me to all my downfalls, but I can see that I am sending my\n     soul to everlasting torment, so I want to turn now and seek for\n     the Lord. Tell me how I can, mother.\n\n     Mother, this is the best I can do; may God bless you in all your\n     undertakings. The matron was glad to hear from you and also the\n     girls. Pray for me.\n\n                                                       ANNA 4309.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Waupun, Wis., March 6, 1899.\n\n     Dear Sister Wheaton:\n\n     Thank God I received your kind and Christian letter last week. We\n     are getting along nicely with our meetings and I know and feel\n     that God is with us every day and especially the eleven that have\n     given their hearts to God and let His dear hand guide their every\n     footstep.\n\n     Our dear Matron gave me your letter. I am as contented as can be.\n     I believe it God's will that I should be here, and His will be\n     done. I love our dear Heavenly Father with all my heart and soul\n     and I love all my sisters and brothers and I love my enemies and\n     I pray for them and ask God to bless them.\n\n     I have ten months more and I hope you can come here again before\n     I go. Our Matron is with us in our meetings every Saturday. I\n     read my Bible and pray three times a day, and I have more\n     strength to perform my daily work, and I know our dear Savior\n     will not forsake me or leave me alone because I know Jesus loves\n     me now, and I know He will answer my prayers.\n\n     I told you before it is my second term, but when I sit in my\n     little room reading my Bible I thank God for it, for I know it\n     was God's will that I should be here a second time, for there is\n     work for me to do here as well as when I am free, and He put me\n     here to show me He wanted me for one of His own dear humble\n     children and I know and feel it now.\n\n       \"Happy day, happy day,\n       When Jesus washed my sins away;\n       He taught me how to watch and pray,\n       And live rejoicing every day.\"\n\n     And I want you to pray for us all that we may have more of God's\n     grace given to us day by day and help us to be humble and meek\n     and willing to be led by His loving hand and pray for us that God\n     will keep us from all temptation and sin and may we ever prove\n     faithful. \"Have mercy upon me, O God, according unto the\n     multitude of Thy tender mercies. Blot out my transgressions.\"\n     Every word here is just as I feel in my heart.\n\n       \"I may not do much with all my care,\n         But I surely may bless a few;\n       The loving Jesus will give to me\n         Some work of love to do.\n\n       \"I may wipe the tears from some weeping eyes,\n         I may make the smile come again,\n       To a face that is weary and worn with care,\n         To a heart that is full of pain.\"\n\n                                                       MRS. J. G.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                    Anamosa, Iowa, Aug. 11, 1901.\n\n     Elizabeth R. Wheaton,\n          Tabor, Iowa.\n\n     Dear Mother:\n\n     We received your kind and loving letter yesterday. Was more than\n     glad to hear from you, but sorry that you have been so sick; but\n     I praise God for His healing divine. We did not have the smallpox\n     in the prison. There were cases of them in town, but the warden\n     quarantined the prison and vaccinated every prisoner. Dear\n     mother, I am trying to get a parole. My petition is now before\n     the Governor with a thousand signers, besides several letters\n     from friends. I have had three good homes offered to me if the\n     Governor will only parole me. I desire so much to be where I can\n     live a better life and take care of my little boy and help my\n     parents, who are in very poor health. I do pray so much for a\n     better place and better companions, where I can do something for\n     my own and others. Dear Mother, will you pray for me? I always\n     remember what I promised you when you bid me good-bye; that was,\n     to pray for you every day. I am so glad we have a Savior who will\n     hear our prayers though we are behind prison walls and our\n     prayers are weak.\n\n     With love and prayers,\n\n                                    FROM D. F. TO MOTHER WHEATON.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Anamosa, Iowa, Oct. 6, 1903.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     I thought I would write you a few lines. We are all well at\n     present. We cannot express how thankful we were for your visit to\n     us. We only wish you could have staid longer. Mrs. Waterman has\n     prayer and song service every morning. It is something wonderful.\n     We all wish so much to hear your voice. Mrs. Waterman spoke to us\n     about writing to you and I was only too glad to write and ask you\n     to pray for us all. I believe and know it will do good. I am\n     trying very hard to pray and be a good Christian. I will ask you\n     to pray for me.\n\n                                     Respectfully yours,\n                                                           G. Mc.\n\n[Illustration: GROUP OF GIRLS IN AN INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL.]\n\n[Illustration: SOUTHERN ILLINOIS STATE PRISON AT CHESTER.]\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER VIII.\n\n                     Incidents in My Prison Work.\n\n\n               LETTER FROM THE PRISONERS AT CHESTER, ILL.\n\n                              Southern Illinois Penitentiary,\n                                     Menard, Ill., Nov. 27, 1902.\n\n     Dear Mother:\n\n     We are writing you from within these dark grim walls. Although we\n     are condemned as the outcasts of society and separated from\n     friends and loved ones and continually laboring under great\n     mental strain and worry, still there is no pain or sorrow great\n     enough to destroy our happiness in our thoughts of you. Your love\n     and thoughtfulness for us and our spiritual welfare is a\n     priceless jewel that all the wealth of the world cannot buy nor\n     sorrow rob us of. No, never. Although the world has condemned and\n     despised us, but we know that there is one--if only one--that\n     loves even the outcasts.\n\n     Several of your boys have gone from here since you were among us.\n     Some have crossed to the beyond; others to blessed freedom. Still\n     a greater number are left here with fondest recollections of all\n     you have done for us, which is one of the greatest among our\n     causes for thanksgiving. It is hardly necessary to say, Remember\n     us. We all remain your sons until death.\n\n                                  YOUR BOYS OF CHESTER, ILLINOIS.\n\nAn extract from a report of the Chaplain of the Southern Illinois\nPenitentiary will be of interest:\n\n                                                    Chester, Ill.\n\n     To the Honorable Board of Commissioners,\n                  Chester, Ill.\n\n     Gentlemen:\n\n     I take pleasure in making a report of my first year's work as\n     Chaplain.\n\n     The regular chapel services have been held every Sunday at 9:40\n     a. m. The chapel has been well filled at all regular services and\n     crowded on special occasions. The attendance at religious\n     services is voluntary, but most prisoners consider it a privilege\n     to attend.\n\n     The words of encouragement I have received from prisoners in\n     conversation and by letter make me feel that good is being\n     accomplished. More than one hundred men have given me their names\n     as Christians or seekers of religion.\n\n     I attend all calls made by the prisoners during the week and\n     visit one cell house each Sunday evening.\n\n     My visits are so planned that I see each prisoner in his cell at\n     least twice a month and give him a chance to make his requests\n     known.\n\n     The men have been urged to study the Bible and have been\n     furnished tracts and other helps in Bible study. I have been\n     astonished in making my rounds to find so many men reading the\n     Bible. One hundred and fifty new Bibles have been purchased\n     during the year. Six hundred Sunday-school quarterlies have been\n     furnished the prisoners each quarter during the year and they\n     have been urged to keep in touch with the outside world by\n     studying these lessons. The Sunday-school lesson is read every\n     Sunday as a scripture lesson and comments are made upon it.\n\n     The sick in the hospital and the shut-in prisoners in the cell\n     houses are visited daily and are supplied with books and papers.\n     Some of them read a book each day.\n\n     The Murphy Temperance Pledge has been furnished and more than\n     five hundred prisoners have signed the pledge. If the saloons\n     could be closed out poor-houses, jails and prisons would soon be\n     almost empty.\n\n                             Respectfully submitted,\n                                        W. N. RUTLEDGE, Chaplain.\n\n\n                      SUICIDE OF A PRISONER.\n\nWhile on my way to the State Prison at Chester, Illinois, in the year\n1888 (if I remember rightly) I was especially impressed by the sad\nappearance of a fellow-passenger, a mother, accompanied by three\nchildren. I was sure that she was in deep trouble. I said to my\nhelper, \"Mary, that woman is going to the Penitentiary.\" She said,\n\"How do you know?\" I answered. \"I feel sure of it and I will convince\nyou that I am right.\"\n\nHaving entered into conversation with the woman, I assisted her as I\nfound opportunity in caring for her children. When I asked her where\nshe was going, she said, \"I am going to Chester.\" I said, \"I, too, am\ngoing to Chester and will gladly assist you in getting off with the\nchildren.\"\n\nAt the station we parted, but the next morning, which was the Sabbath,\nas I passed through the guard-room of the State Prison I saw this\nwoman talking to her husband, who was a prisoner. She sat beside him\nand he was holding one of the children and she had another in her\narms. The third was playing near by. All were too young to know of the\nsorrow that had come to their home, or the shame that had fallen upon\nthem. They were with papa and mamma and felt safe and happy. Alas! how\nlittle they knew how soon they were to be left fatherless!\n\nI passed on and was busy during the entire day for I had the liberty\nof the prison and the privilege of working among the prisoners. So\nbusy was I that for the time being I had lost sight of that poor wife\nand mother, but only the next morning the Chaplain called for me and\nsaid, \"Sister Wheaton, I have oh, such a sad task before me this\nmorning! I wish you would do it for me.\" I said, \"Chaplain, I will\ntry. I am willing to do anything that I can to help you.\" And then he\nsaid, \"Do you remember the man and woman you saw yesterday in the\nguard-room talking?\" I said, \"Yes; I remember them well; I met the\nwoman on the train on my way here.\" He replied, \"Well, that man was so\nheart-broken at the thought of parting with his wife and children that\nhe asked her to promise him that if he should die in the prison she\nwould have him brought home for burial. She promised him she would do\nso and last night that poor man committed suicide in his cell and now\nsomeone must go and tell that woman of her husband's death.\" I said,\n\"Chaplain, that is a hard thing to do, but I will try.\" He said, \"I\nwish you would,--being a woman you can comfort her better than I\ncould.\" Well, I went along the hall until I came to the door of the\nroom she occupied, for, she too, as well as myself, was a guest of the\nkind warden's wife. I opened the door softly and looked in. In memory\nI can see her yet as she sat with one child in her lap while the other\ntwo little ones were playing around her knee. She was softly singing\nsome old country tune. As I looked my heart failed me. I turned away\nin sorrow and returned to the Chaplain and said, \"Chaplain, I cannot\ndo it. I cannot break that poor woman's heart. I just can't tell her,\"\nand he said, \"Then I will have to do it. Someone must tell her,\" and\nso he broke the message as best he could. Never will I forget the\nanguish of that poor woman's heart as she wept out her grief and\nsuffering! I tried to comfort her as best I could. I took the same\ntrain with her as she started for home with her husband's body in the\nbaggage coach ahead. As best I could I ministered to her and those\npoor helpless children as long as our journey carried us over the same\nroad and when I changed cars I tried to utter some words of comfort,\nbut oh, friends, what could I say, what could I do? Only the sympathy\nof the loving Savior could reach her case and I left her, never to\nmeet her again on this side, but oh, may we not hope that in some way\nGod found a way to have mercy upon that poor, misjudged man and that\nthose loved ones may meet again where no mistakes will be made by\njudge or jury? For many believed that poor man to be innocent of the\ncrime with which he was charged. If I remember rightly a barn had been\nburned and he had been accused of setting it on fire and had been\nconvicted through purely circumstantial evidence. Brokenhearted over\nhis disgrace and the thought of again being separated from wife and\nchildren, the poor man made a rope of the bed-clothing in his cell and\nused it to take his own life.\n\n\n                       \"I HAVE NO FRIENDS.\"\n\nOn the 4th of July, 1903, I was in the Ohio Penitentiary at Columbus.\nOfficers and chaplain were kind, as usual. After holding services in\nthe hospital, I held service with the men under death sentence; then\nwent to the prison-yard where all the others were having a holiday.\nThere the Chaplain assisted Sister Taylor and myself to hold services\nin the open air. Many seemed glad to get the message of love in song\nand prayer and preaching and many came to shake hands with us, while\nsinging the closing hymn.\n\nOne poor old man, a foreigner, handed me a little package about as\nlarge as a walnut. The paper was soiled from contact with his hand\nthat warm day. The poor man in tears said, \"Good-bye,\" and I forgot\nall about the little package till on the train that night going east,\nwhere I found it in my pocket and found inside a silk handkerchief and\na 25 cent silver piece. On the paper was written his name and number\nand these words, \"I have no friends.\" I wept over that small token of\nlove as I do not often weep over a gift. I have that little\nhandkerchief safe. It seems sacred to me. How I felt repaid for my\nhard day's toil.\n\nThat night while I was holding services on the train the conductor\nsaid, \"Mother, I don't see how you stand so much hardship;\" I said,\n\"Conductor, I had even forgotten that I had had neither dinner or\nsupper today.\"\n\nI think I know something of what Jesus meant when He said to His\ndisciples after ministering to a needy soul, \"I have meat to eat that\nye know not of.\"\n\nChaplain Starr in one of the following letters refers to the open air\nservice on July 4th; also to some of the men under death sentence with\nwhom I had labored. The Indian woman to whose death and burial he\nrefers is the same one who is mentioned in the letters of W. H. M. in\nanother place.\n\n                                   Columbus, Ohio, July 11, 1903.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton.\n\n     My Dear Sister: Your letter received this morning was a very\n     pleasant surprise. We have now an additional man in the Annex.\n     There are three men sentenced to electrocution in September and\n     October. What change may come we do not know. I gave them your\n     letter; they will read it over by themselves, and the tracts\n     also. They still say that your visit with them on the Fourth of\n     July did them much good. I have also delivered your letter to D.,\n     and with it a letter from myself, giving him encouragement and\n     offering to render him any friendly assistance. The old Indian\n     woman, Elsie J., whom I think you have several times seen in the\n     female prison, died on the 9th, and we gave her a Christian\n     burial yesterday. She was converted and baptized some time ago. I\n     am glad that you are preserved and sustained in your great work\n     as prison evangelist. If D., and N., and W. write to you I will\n     forward the letters to your address. With kind wishes and\n     regards, I am,\n\n                              Your brother,\n\n                                     D. J. STARR, Chaplain, O. P.\n\n     Your talk in the yard on the Fourth of July did good.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Columbus, Ohio, Sept. 26, 1903.\n\n     Dear Sister: Your recent postal came duly to hand. I received\n     your letter in July from the South and wrote you a reply, but\n     have kept it until the present time, not knowing where to mail it\n     so it would reach you. I will now send it in this letter, so that\n     you will see that I have not forgotten you and answered your\n     letter at the time. You inquire concerning the men in the Annex;\n     we have now six men in the Annex. One of them has been granted a\n     new trial and some others are expecting to get new trials. They\n     do not take any great interest in religion, but yet they read the\n     Bible some and talk about it. I will tell them of your interest\n     in them and assure them that they are not forgotten in your\n     prayers.\n\n                          Sincerely yours,\n\n                                     D. J. STARR, Chaplain, O. P.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Ohio Penitentiary, Feb. 22, 1904.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Sister: I have just received your letter from Washington, D.\n     C., inquiring about the men in our prison death cell.\n\n     There are ten there now and two have been taken out for new\n     trials. If these are sent back we shall have twelve. The largest\n     number, until this list, ever in the Annex was nine.\n\n     Murders, as well as other crimes of violence to person and\n     property, are on the increase and society is trying to protect\n     its life--without much security, so far.\n\n     Perhaps three of the men are Scripturally penitent, three others\n     interested and four indifferent to religion--so far as we can\n     see. The men have Bibles, religious song books and papers,\n     library books and religious letters from relatives. They are not\n     allowed to correspond without especially good reasons for permits\n     to do so. I hold a little meeting and Bible study with those who\n     care for it almost daily at 2 p. m., at which time you might help\n     us with your prayers.\n\n     Sentiment is not salvation. The trouble, both in the prison and\n     out of it, is, men will not seek after God. Yes, I am busy and\n     ought to be busy about my Master's business, and so are you.\n\n     With best wishes, I am,\n\n                          Respectfully yours,\n\n                                           D. J. STARR, Chaplain.\n\n\n                    WAY OPENED IN ANSWER TO PRAYER.\n\nI had for many years prayed for an opportunity to preach in one of the\nlargest state prisons. Again and again I had been refused by both the\nwarden and chaplain. But at last through a new governor of the state I\nwas permitted to enter this prison for religious services.\n\nCalling at the office of the governor and asking permission to go to\nthe prison and assist in the services, he said, \"Certainly, we shall\nbe glad to have you. There will be no difficulty, as we have new\nofficers. You can preach in the prison.\" Before I had left the\nGovernor's private office the warden of the prison being present spoke\nand said, \"Certainly, they would be very glad to have you take part\nwith them.\" I asked if I should not see the chaplain, but the warden\nsaid he would be all right, and be pleased. But I insisted that it was\nonly courtesy to see the chaplain. And asking the governor to please\nwrite a note to him, he did so and remarked that the state carriage\nwas waiting at the door and I should be driven to the chaplain's\nhouse.\n\nArriving at his home I was met by his little daughter who carried my\ncard to her father and he soon came into the room asking what I\nwanted. \"I should like, if you please, to take part with you in the\nservices at the prison chapel tomorrow (Sunday) as I have been some\nyears in prison work,\" I replied. \"No indeed,\" he answered, \"I cannot\nallow a woman to speak in my meetings. I will never permit any woman\nto take my pulpit.\" I made no reply, but that the state carriage was\nwaiting for me and I must go, but said to him, \"Here is a letter from\nthe governor. Will you kindly look at it before I leave?\" He took the\nmessage and noting its contents he changed color and seemed confused;\nsaying, \"I never did allow a woman to speak in my meetings. But seeing\nthe governor's request and your years of experience, I will allow you\nto come in the morning and conduct the women's meetings.\" The\ngovernor's letter read as follows:\n\n                             Executive Department, Oct. 24, 1891.\n\n     Dr. O. W. G.,\n       Chaplain of Penitentiary.\n\n     Dear Sir:\n\n     The bearer, Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, is a prison evangelist of\n     national reputation and experience, who brings letters of strong\n     recommendation from wardens of the prisons she has visited, and I\n     commend her to your kind consideration. She has expressed a\n     willingness, if not a desire, to participate in your services\n     tomorrow afternoon in the chapel and I trust you will afford her\n     every facility for so doing.\n\n                          Respectfully,\n\n                                                DAVID R. FRANCES.\n\n\n                     A WOMAN CONVERTED AND HEALED.\n\nI went praying for an outpouring of the Holy Spirit. While I was\nspeaking I was impressed to step down the aisle and lay my hand upon\nthe head of a vicious looking colored woman. I afterward learned that\nshe was a life time prisoner and a very dangerous woman. Instantly the\npower of God fell upon her and she was wonderfully converted then and\nthere, and to the best of my knowledge is still true to God. The other\nwomen seeing this, their leader in sin (for so she was) so changed,\nwere subdued and convicted of their sins. The meeting closed with\nvictory for God. The chaplain was convinced and said, \"You have won\nthe worst woman in the prison. You have the hearts of all the\nprisoners now, for her influence is great. You come and preach to the\nmen this afternoon. I am convinced.\" Years have come and gone.\nGovernors, wardens and chaplains have been changed; but God does not\nchange, and the doors of that prison are still open to me, and God\nalways blesses every service.\n\nSome years later upon visiting this prison again we found this poor\ncolored woman much afflicted and walking on crutches. The sister with\nme and I prayed for her, and she was instantly healed, throwing her\ncrutches aside at once. The matron then gave her the key to go down\nand unlock the outside door for us, having so much confidence in her.\nShe received a pardon from the governor later.\n\nAnother woman in the same prison was also prayed for and was instantly\nhealed by the Lord, of a large tumor, and ran and praised God for what\nHe had done for her.\n\n\n                         A CHANGE WROUGHT.\n\nFor some years another prison was closed to me. Why, I never knew. I\nprayed that the doors of that prison might be opened to me. When the\nLord sent me back there I found such a change as I had never before\nwitnessed in the same length of time. There was a good Christian\nchaplain, one of the best of wardens, and good deputies. Every\nprisoner was in an improved state of mind and morals, and all in\nharmony and glad to obey the rules of the prison. I was treated with\ncourtesy and kindness, and was given all the time in the services, and\nwas entertained. When I left I was conveyed to the depot with ladies\nas escorts, and a \"trusty\" as driver. Such are the wonderful workings\nof God through faith and prayer. The meetings in this state prison\nwere owned and blessed of the Lord. The Holy Spirit led and all seemed\nto enjoy and appreciate them. The chaplain said, \"How much good was\naccomplished!\" All were united in harmony and God was glorified.\n\n\n                        A CHAPLAIN IN MY AUDIENCE.\n\nAt another time, arriving at a certain city where there was a state's\nprison, I met in the depot a young lady wearing a Salvation Army\nbonnet. She was crying at not being met by friends as she had\nexpected, and I asked her to go with me. She gladly did so and I\nproceeded to the prison to ask permission to hold services for the\nprisoners on the next day which would be the Sabbath. Obtaining the\nconsent of the chaplain I waited till the time for the service on\nSabbath morning and returned. The guard refusing to admit me, I sent\nfor the chaplain. When he came he also refused me, saying he could not\npermit me to hold the service, as he thought I belonged to the\nSalvation Army. A friend suggested that I should go to the Governor at\nhis residence, saying that he was a kind man. I did so, and was very\nkindly received. Having listened to my request he said, \"Yes, you may\nhave your meeting in the prison,\"--he having heard of my work before.\nHe wrote a card for me to carry with me, and I took it and returned to\nthe prison. The preacher and the Sisters of Charity had all gone to\nthe women's department. The men were out in the large yard. I called,\n\"Boys, come on, we are going to have a meeting.\" How they hurried pell\nmell to the chapel! And such a meeting! The power of God fell. Just\nthen the chaplain entered, much surprised of course, and I said,\n\"Chaplain, I am permitted through the kindness of the Governor to hold\nthis service. Will you please be seated?\" Had a most glorious meeting,\nclosing with results altogether satisfactory to the chaplain.\n\n\n                          IMPRESSED TO TARRY.\n\nWhile holding a meeting in a certain city, I was impressed day after\nday to tarry. I did not know why. I wanted to go, but still the Lord\nimpressed me to wait. One evening a cry was heard, \"A man is shot.\"\nImmediately the Spirit impressed me, \"That is what I detained you here\nfor.\" I rushed out into the night, and inquired where the man had been\ncarried. They told me to the hotel. I went immediately, got admittance\nto his room and found him in a dying condition, with no one that knew\nGod to pray for him. And there by the bedside of the dying man, some\nmother's boy,--dying without God and without hope in the world,--I\ntried to point him to the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the\nworld, hoping that the Lord would give him a chance at the eleventh\nhour to seek salvation, and I believe God heard my prayer for this\nsoul.\n\n\n                      ENCOURAGEMENT BY THE WAY.\n\nIn the Pacific Garden Mission in Chicago one night, after addressing\nthe audience and singing the Gospel to the people, I gave an\ninvitation to all who desired to lead a new life and serve the Lord to\ncome forward and publicly confess Christ and repent of their sins.\nInstantly a fine looking young man rose in the rear of the hall,\nhurried to the front and grasped my hand, saying that he saw me three\nweeks before in the Deer Lodge, Montana, State Prison. He said that\nthree days before, he was released and had come to Chicago, and\npassing along the street he heard me singing a favorite hymn at the\nopen air meeting before services in the hall, and was attracted in.\nWith hand raised, he promised to be a Christian and live for God and\nmeet me in Heaven. He said he had my Bible that I gave to the matron\nof the prison, who, when he was leaving, gave it to him. \"Cast thy\nbread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it after many days.\" Many\nothers gave themselves to the Lord that night but this was one of my\nprison boys, and I was his mother, in that sense, as my life has been\nconsecrated to God for that special line of work.\n\nThe day following, on my way east, I was compelled to stay over night\nat a way station where we were to change cars. As I left the train I\nheard, as usual, the call of cab-men but passed on into the waiting\nroom. Several followed me, but one took me by the hand and addressing\nme familiarly said, \"Get into my cab, mother, it is all right; I'll\ntake you where you wish to go.\" Mother Prindle, who was with me said,\n\"Do you know Mother Wheaton?\" He replied, \"I have read about her,\"\nbut the look in his kind eyes told me it was one of my boys from\nprison. He was now settled in life, a good man, with a wife and two\nchildren. He escorted us to the jail where I desired to hold services,\nthen to the home of a minister, and from there to our lodging house.\n\nI bless God, and will through all eternity, that the dear Lord ever\ncalled me to work in the prisons as well as in other lines of\nChristian work. There are many all over this land now serving God,\nleading good, honest lives, a blessing to their country and an honor\nto God's cause, who were found in prisons and slums, discouraged and\nhaving given up all hope of ever being anything but miserable and\nwretched. They are now serving the blessed Christ who came to seek and\nto save that which was lost, and destroy the works of the devil, not\nwilling that any should perish, but rather that all should be saved. O\nreader, many are the lives we might rescue from the ranks of the enemy\nif we were more in earnest and lived in close touch with God, and more\nunder the power and inspiration of the Holy Spirit.\n\nOnce in a meeting I was attending, the minister in charge took another\nyoung preacher by the hand, and said: \"I want you to preach for us.\"\nThe one addressed came to the front of the platform and said: \"Yes, I\nwill; but first I want to say I was once in an insane prison, an awful\nplace. No one will ever know all we had to suffer there. I was insane\nthrough drink--no one could help me. I was sin-hardened and\nhard-hearted, but this Mother (pointing to myself) came to our\ncriminal prison and sang and prayed and talked to us, and was kind to\nus, and my heart was melted, and I wept--something I could not, would\nnot do until then. Her kindness won me, and I was saved, truly\nsanctified, and I have been preaching the Gospel for four years.\"\n\n\n                      A CASE OF CRUEL NEGLECT.\n\nAt the best, life in prison is hard. How much worse when cruelty and\nneglect are added to the necessary restrictions that are placed upon\nthose in confinement. I knew of one young colored man in prison in the\nsouth who was compelled to endure the winter weather without proper\nclothing or covering. His one blanket was so short that his feet were\nso badly frozen they had to be amputated. Think you that such things\nas these do not cry to God for vengeance?\n\n\n                           ANOTHER SUICIDE.\n\nWell do I remember a promising young man, who, when I was preaching in\na prison in a southern state, began trembling and ran back into his\ncell and called for an officer to bring me to him. I found that he was\nquite weak from a bullet wound he had received in a drunken row in a\nsaloon, he having killed a man in the fight. He was a young man with\nbright prospects before him, but bad company and a love for strong\ndrink had wrought his ruin. He told me of his uncle who was a\nminister, a prominent evangelist. I was much surprised that a nephew\nof so popular a minister should be in state's prison for such an awful\ncrime, crushed with shame and remorse. Could it be possible? His\nmother was a rich lady.\n\nThis young man either because of his wealth and position, or because\nof his good conduct in prison, or both, was given privileges and often\nsent outside the prison grounds. Often I plead with him to come to\nChrist. But one day the old demon of drink had overcome him and having\nsecretly obtained some liquor, while at a game of cards he shot\nhimself. Let us throw the mantle of charity over that blighted life,\nand leave him in the hands of a just God. Who will be willing to\nanswer at the bar of God for that soul? \"Woe unto him that giveth his\nneighbor drink, that puttest thy bottle to him and makest him drunken\nalso.\"--Hab. 2:15. \"Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.\"\n\n\n                         JUST OUT OF PRISON.\n\n    \"O the wrongs that we may righten,\n    O the skies that we may brighten,\n    O the hearts that we may lighten--\n    Helping just a little!\"\n\nWhile traveling on the train one day, the brakeman said to me: \"There\nis an ex-convict in the smoking-car.\" \"All right, I will go in and see\nhim,\" I said. I went and took him by the hand as he sat alone in the\nrear seat of the car, sad and dejected, with no money, no friends, no\nhome. His mother had died while he was incarcerated in prison; home\nbroken up, nowhere to go. How glad I was to take this poor soul upon\nmy heart, and intercede for him in silent prayer; and then have him\ncome into the other coach and share my lunch. At parting he promised\nme he would live a temperate life, and serve God the best he knew. I\nbelieve the dear Lord had me travel on that train to meet that poor\nunfortunate and help and strengthen his faith in Christianity, by\nshowing him attention outside as well as inside the prison walls. How\noften a soul is saved from a downfall by a word in season; a kind\nhand-clasp, a \"God bless you; cheer up, look up, better days are\ncoming,\" etc. When hope is well-nigh gone, and friends have forsaken,\nand all has failed; yet we can always tell such that \"God never\nfails.\"\n\n\n                        DYING IN PRISON.\n\nOne day as I was alone in a gloomy prison a poor boy called to me and\nsaid, \"Write to my mother, but don't tell her where you found me.\nPlease don't tell her, for it would kill her. She never could live and\nknow her boy was in prison.\" On the dirty floor, lying on a pile of\nstill dirtier straw I found this poor prison boy dying. I fell on my\nknees and poured out my heart to God in his behalf.\n\n    \"That head had been pillowed on tenderest breast,\n    That form had been wept o'er, those lips had been pressed,\n    That soul had been prayed for in tones sweet and mild;\n    For her sake deal gently with some mother's child.\"\n\nDo not tell me that it does not pay to labor and pray with these dear\nlost ones. For if I can be the means of rescuing but one soul from\neternal punishment, thank God, it pays me.\n\n\n                            WILL IT PAY?\n\nSome gentlemen were once looking at a large building erected for\nnewsboys, that they might be brought under religious and refining\ninfluences. One of the spectators asked a large contributor to the\nbenevolent institution this question: \"Now you are erecting this\nbuilding at a cost of many thousands of dollars, and I admire your\nmotives, but suppose that after all this great expense only one boy\nwas saved here--would you still think it paid for time, labor and\nmoney expended?\" The man answered quickly and earnestly, \"Yes, sir; if\nit was my boy.\" The most precious thing in the sight of God is a soul.\nFor the redemption of every soul on earth was paid the precious blood\nof the Lamb of God. Count it not then a light thing in His sight for\none to be saved or lost. For \"There is joy in the presence of the\nangels of God over one sinner that repenteth--more than over ninety\nand nine just persons who need no repentance.\" Hundreds have been\nsaved under my observation and instrumentality both inside and outside\nof prison walls, and my motto has been, \"Throw out the lifeline across\nthe dark wave.\"\n\n\n                  SAVED AND PREACHING THE GOSPEL.\n\nUpon a warm July day, starting to walk out from Bismarck, N. D., to\nwhat I took to be the state's prison, but which proved to be a large\nwater reservoir, being overcome by the heat I fell, and crawling to a\nshade I lay down with my Bible under my head. After a time I saw some\ndistance away some persons driving in an open hack and signaled to\nthem till they saw me and came to me. They drove me to the home of the\nwarden of the prison where I was kindly received by the warden's wife\nand made comfortable. Late that night I held service in the prison\ncorridors. This was in 1885, and in 1901 I was leading a meeting in a\nmission in Portland, Oregon, and asked all who had something special\nfor which to praise the Lord to speak. A brother arose and said:\n\n     \"I want to thank the Lord tonight for the privilege of hearing\n     'Mother' Wheaton preach outside of prison walls. I have heard her\n     in many a prison. Years ago, one night at 9 o'clock, when all the\n     prisoners had been locked in their cells, the officers unlocked\n     the doors to let this sister sing some hymns and hold services in\n     the corridors. One hymn that especially touched my heart was\n     'Throw out the life line.' I was an opium fiend, a morphine\n     fiend, a whisky fiend, and an all around bad man, and was ready\n     to despair. But God touched my heart and saved me and called me\n     to the ministry. At this time I was with my other sins a deserter\n     from the United States army. When my time expired I went and\n     gave myself up and was sentenced to five years more in prison.\n     But God had mercy on me and in seven months I was pardoned out.\n     Since that time I have lived an honest life, and for eight years\n     have preached the gospel.\"\n\nThis man was married to a Christian woman and has done much to rescue\nmen from the pit from which he had been taken, and is still preaching.\n\n\n                      IN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT.\n\nOne Sunday I sang perhaps thirty hymns and preached seven times to\nprisoners in solitary confinement, where I dare not see them or clasp\ntheir hands as I do in other prisons. There are hundreds there, and as\nI sang in all the prison wards or corridors many different hymns, the\ndear souls cheered and responded with their clear voices as best they\ncould to show their sincere appreciation of my efforts to brighten\ntheir lonely prison life. Each was \"some mother's boy.\" Reader, is\nthere not a sympathetic chord in your heart for these poor\nunfortunates?\n\n\n                           CRAPE ON THE DOOR.\n\nI once felt impressed to go to a certain prison and hold services.\nArriving at the place early in the morning, I thought I would go to\nthe prison first before I would telephone for a cousin who often\nhelped me in the singing. When I arrived at the prison, the chaplain\nsaid, \"Mother Wheaton, the Lord sent you to help me. To-day I have a\nfuneral service of a prisoner, something we have never had at this\nprison.\" I did not telephone then for my cousin, as the services were\narranged. I worked all day in the prison, holding services with both\nmen and women prisoners, visited the hospital, and went to the city\njail at 5 p. m. and held services, and then went to my relative's home\nand was greatly shocked to find crape hanging on the door. I found my\ncousin cold in death. Relatives asked me, \"Who told you?\" I said, \"God\nimpressed me to come at this time.\" And I went with them to the grave\nof my dear cousin, and kneeling beside the open grave, I promised to\nfaithfully do God's holy will, and meet the departed one in Heaven.\n\n\n                        IN A POLICE STATION.\n\nIn 1903, while I was in San Francisco, I was impressed to go to the\npolice station about nine o'clock one night. I found, on arriving, an\nambulance bringing in prisoners, among them a woman who was arrested\nfor drunkenness. I talked and prayed with her. Hearing a noise like\none in distress, I walked on through the corridors and I found a young\nsoldier who was badly wounded in one eye and the head. He was standing\nalone in his cell in great pain. The bandage had been torn off, and\nthe blood was running down his face, though his wounds had evidently\nbeen dressed by a physician before coming there. He was crying from\nthe pain, and was under the influence of drink. I wiped the blood off\nhis face, and put the bandage on his eye again. Then I knelt in prayer\nwith him. I left the city on an early train, and never saw him again,\nbut I believe God heard and answered my prayer for his salvation.\n\n\n                          BURNED IN HIS CELL.\n\nI went into one of our western cities to hold services at the jail. On\nthe way from the depot I stopped at a store, where a young clerk told\nme of a horrible crime that had been committed in the jail. That the\nprisoners had been trying to make their escape, and one young prisoner\nhad revealed the plot to the jailer, and thus saved his life. The\nprison wall had been \"worked\" in a cunning manner, and the prisoners\nwere about to escape, when this poor boy informed the jailer of what\nwas being done. The other three prisoners were so enraged that they\nthrew coal oil over the boy, set fire to his clothing, and he was\nburned alive in the cell. I was grieved at hearing this, and felt that\nI could see them punished severely. They were in an underground prison\nfor safe-keeping until the wall could be repaired. The officers were\nafraid to let me go in, but I told them I was not afraid, and went\ndown the stairs ahead of the officers. I saw only one dim candle\nburning, and called for a light. A lamp was brought, and I went boldly\ninto the presence of those criminals. I sat down and thought of the\nawfulness of it all. So, as I wept, I sang \"Some Mother's Boy,\" and\nthey cried like their hearts were breaking. I went over to them, where\nthey were sitting together on an old bunk, and we cried together. They\nwere humble and convicted, and it was love that did it all--God's love\nwhich showed them that though their sins were as scarlet, they shall\nbe white as snow, though red like crimson they shall be as wool. God\nheard prayer for them and I trust they were forgiven.\n\n\n                          THE INNOCENT IN BONDS.\n\nIn a certain state prison the officer called my attention to a man and\nsaid, \"That man is innocent of the crime he was sentenced for.\" \"Then\nwhy do you keep him here?\" I asked. \"Because he serves for his friend,\nwillingly allowing the guilt to be placed upon himself rather than see\nthis friend who was really guilty suffer.\" On leaving the prison I\ncame upon this man with an officer on the train, and had the pleasure\nof talking to the man and hearing his story. I referred him to Psalms\n15:1, 2, 4. \"Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle? Who shall dwell\nin thy holy hill? He that walketh uprightly and worketh righteousness,\nand speaketh the truth in his heart. He that sweareth to his own\nhurt, and changeth not.\" He was being taken to another court for\ntrial.\n\n\n                            CONFESSED HER GUILT.\n\nA woman in a prison was convicted of sin under my preaching, and sent\nfor me to come to her cell, where she gave me such an account of her\ncrimes that I was shocked, and yet was powerless to liberate an\ninnocent man that she said was in ---- state's prison for a crime she\ncommitted. She asked me to go and tell him for her that she was the\nguilty one, and try to have him freed, but wanted the matter kept\nsecret. Now that she was under conviction of her sins, she could not\nrest. I went to the state prison she named, found the man, and told\nhim her story. His agony was pitiful to behold. He said, \"O how I\nloved my wife and baby. I am an innocent man. How can I live my\nsentence out in this way? Nothing to live for.\" Such bitterness as he\nheld toward that wicked woman, for her crime and duplicity! I left him\nin an agony of grief. And yet there are so many who are serving as\nunjustly for others' crimes! This woman had killed the wife thinking\nshe herself would then get the husband.\n\n\n                          UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH.\n\nGoing into the presence of two condemned men on our national holiday,\nthe chaplain remarked, \"I wish you could reach these men's hearts. You\nhave often helped others in this prison who were under death\nsentence.\" I prayed in silence for wisdom, and as I walked into their\npresence, I said, \"I have come to sing to you and have a little visit\nwith you, but if you prefer to be alone, I will go away.\" They said\nthey would be glad to have me stay. I sang several songs, and before\nI had spoken of religion, I was made glad to see tears in their eyes,\nand then we knelt in prayer, and I prayed God to pardon their sins and\nmake them pure in His sight.\n\nI do not believe in capital punishment. Lord hasten the day when the\ncrime of putting men to death legally shall be done away with. It does\nnot stop crime. I thank God that one noble warden gave up his\nhonorable position and salary, rather than take the lives of any more\nmen. I wish God would raise up men all over our land who in like\nmanner would be brave enough to refuse to sacrifice human lives\nbecause the law licenses them to do so. When I see wicked men so\nanxious to see poor, helpless men executed, I think of that\nauthoritative utterance, \"Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the\nLord.\" Jesus said, \"He that hateth his brother is a murderer.\" There\nis a day of reckoning coming.\n\n\n                       THE RELIGION MOTHER HAD.\n\nMany times prisoners have said to me when speaking to them, \"That's\nthe kind of religion mother had. You remind me of my own dear old\nmother;\" and many, even statesmen, and the attendants in the capitol,\nand in the President's mansion, have said to me with uncovered heads,\nand tears in their eyes, \"That is the kind of religion mother had. I\nwish I was as good as she was.\" I find the crying need to-day in all\nstations of life; from the palace to the dungeon, is real, genuine,\nheartfelt, common-sense salvation, not to be cranks and fanatics, not\nto be one-sided or half-way professors of religion; but to have the\nHoly Ghost in our hearts and lives, and a burning desire to help every\none into the Kingdom of Heaven. Being \"all things to all men\" that we\nmight win some wandering souls to Christ.\n\nO the joy of knowing that you are doing just what God wants you to\ndo--winning souls for His Kingdom, from all walks of life; often in\nhouses of ill-fame souls are truly saved and reformed. Often in\nsaloons men and women are impressed by the straightforward message of\nlove brought them. You say, \"No use to try.\" O thou of little faith,\nwherefore did'st thou doubt? I have much encouragement among the\ncriminal classes, for they are despised and rejected by earthly\nfriends.\n\nI might give many more instances, but this is probably sufficient. Let\nno one think for a moment that these poor unfortunates have no tender\nfeeling, no remorse because of sin. They see their shame and feel the\nseparation from home and loved ones. There must be places to confine\ncriminals and protect the lives and property of other people, but we\nmust remember that behind all the guilt there are precious souls that\nlive through all eternity.\n\nSin is treacherous, the human heart deceitful above all things and\ndesperately wicked; perhaps under unfavorable conditions the heart of\nthe most moral man or woman may generate the evil of the human nature\nand cause it to show its corruption in crime. All that saves some\npeople now from the felon's cell, or gambler's hell, is that they hold\nthe propensity of their corrupt hearts in with bit and bridle. And\nthousands tread the earth in freedom, who, if justice could find them\nout and fasten their guilt upon them, would be in the prison stripes\nand iron cells. So be not so ready to cry \"Crucify him!\" \"Stone her!\"\nuntil you can look into your own heart and see that it is pure and\nclean.\n\n\n                  CAPITAL PUNISHMENT.\n\n    Thank God! that I have lived to see the time\n      When the great truth begins at last to find\n      An utterance from the deep heart of mankind,\n    Earnest and clear, that ALL REVENGE IS CRIME!\n      That man is holier than a creed--that all\n    Restraint upon him must consult his good,\n      Hope's sunshine linger on his prison wall,\n    And Love look in upon his solitude.\n      The beautiful lesson which our Saviour taught\n      Through long, dark centuries its way hath wrought\n      Into the common mind and popular thought;\n    And words, to which by Galilee's lake shore,\n    The humble fishers listened with hushed oar,\n      Have found an echo in the general heart,\n      And of the public faith become a living part.\n                  * * * * * * *\n\n    No more the ghastly sacrifices smoke\n    Through the green arches of the Druid's oak;\n      And ye of milder faith, with your high claim\n      Of prophet-utterance in the Holiest name,\n    Will ye become the Druids of _our_ time!\n      Set up your scaffold-altars in our land,\n    And, consecrators of Law's darkest crime,\n      Urge to its loathsome work the hangman's hand?\n    Beware--lest human nature, roused at last,\n    From its peeled shoulder your encumbrance cast,\n      And, sick to loathing of your cry for blood,\n    Rank ye with those who led their victims round\n    The Celt's red altar and the Indian's mound,\n      Abhorred of Earth and Heaven--a pagan brotherhood!\n\n                    --JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.\n\n[Illustration: INTERIOR OF CHAPEL-DINING APARTMENT AND ROW OF CELLS,\nCHESTER, ILL.]\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER IX.\n\n  Conversion of Desperate Prisoners Prevents a Terrible Mutiny.\n\n\nDuring the fall of 1888, I was deeply impressed that I should visit\nthe state prison at Waupun, Wis. Following the guidance of the Spirit,\nI reached the place, after a long journey, on the evening of November\nthird. A dear Christian girl was with me. It was a lovely moonlight\nnight and as we came to the prison, the yard was plainly visible\nthrough the heavy iron grating. My companion called my attention to\nits beauty but my heart was heavy and I could only reply, \"Sister,\npray! O do pray! There is something awfully wrong here--some danger\npending--something terrible!\"\n\nThe officers of the prison welcomed me heartily and the chaplain said:\n\"I am glad you have come and shall be pleased to have you take the\nservice tomorrow morning.\" (It was Saturday.) His wife entertained us\nduring our stay and after taking us to their own rooms he said:\n\"There's a man here who is a terror to both the officers and\nprisoners. All are afraid of him. Neither kindness or punishment seems\nto affect him. I wish you could do something to help him.\" My reply\nwas: \"I cannot do anything, but God can.\" And earnestly did I look to\nGod for help.\n\nThe next morning a heavy burden still rested upon my heart and I\nprayed God to go before me to that prison chapel and lead the meeting\nHimself and give me the right message. Nor did I plead in vain, for\nmany souls were that day deeply convicted of sin and some were\nblessedly saved as was clearly manifested a little later.\n\nAfter the sermon my friend and myself sang a hymn and this was greatly\nused by the Spirit in connection with the sermon in reaching the very\ndepths of hearts. It was the custom to hold an after meeting for\nthirty minutes, but those who wished to remain were expected to secure\ncards or tickets, granting permission, on the previous day. That\nSunday the chaplain said: \"All who wish to remain to this service can\ndo so without a card, as these ladies are here.\"\n\nA hardened looking criminal (whom I afterward learned to be the one to\nwhom the chaplain had referred the night before) arose to retire with\na few others. I went to him at once and took him by the hand and urged\nhim to stay, but he said: \"No, they don't want me here. This meeting\nis for good people and I am too bad to stay.\" But I pleaded: \"No, you\nstay--we want you to stay. I want you to stay.\" And then he said:\n\"Well, I'll stay for your sake,\" and sat down. The meeting progressed\nunder the power of the Lord and many arose to say that they had been\nvery wicked but were sorry; and if God could and would forgive them\nthey would lead a different life and be good men. Some told how their\ndear old mothers were good and had prayed for them and that they\nwanted us to pray for them and they would serve the Lord.\n\nI noticed that many of the men as they arose glanced furtively at the\nman to whom I have referred and that he sat looking at each one as he\nspoke and evidently had great influence over the other prisoners. At\nlast he arose and said, \"Men, don't be afraid of me. If there is any\ngood in this religion you are talking about, go ahead and get it. I'll\nstand by you and nobody shall say before me, 'There's your praying\nman' or 'There's your hypocrite.' I can't be good--I'm too far\ngone--but I'll stand by the men who are going to do right.\" All were\nevidently deeply impressed by his words. As he sat down I went to him\nand taking him by the hand, I said, \"God loves you and He wants to\nsave you and to help you to live for a better world than this.\" Again\nhe insisted, \"I'm too far gone! It's too late for me to try to do\nright! There's no hope for me,\" but still I pleaded with him to return\nunto the Lord--that there was still mercy and pardon for even him--and\nthat he would yield to the Holy Spirit's pleading and become a\nChristian. He was evidently very deeply convicted of sin and soon\narose and with deep feeling he said, \"Men, you know what I have\nbeen--watch me from today and see what I will be;\" and as he sat down,\nthe prisoners cheered.\n\nFearful as to what the outcome might be and somewhat doubting his\nsincerity, the chaplain quickly closed the service and ordered the men\nto their cells. They obediently left the chapel, but truly God had\nwondrously wrought that day in the hearts of many of the most noted\nand hardened criminals. In the afternoon we went, in company with the\nchaplain, from cell to cell singing, talking, and praying with the\nmen. The chaplain took me to the cell of the man who had given so much\ntrouble--a man who had taken several lives, and there he gave his\nheart to God and was converted.\n\n\n                          PLAN OF THE MUTINY.\n\nAfter all the prisoners had been locked in the cells and the officers\nhad gone to their homes or rooms, only a few guards remaining on duty,\nhe sent for the warden to come to his cell and requested to be taken\nout into the prison yard. At first the warden refused to do so because\nof his being known to be such a dangerous character. Still he\ninsisted, saying that he had something to show him. The warden, who\nhad been an army officer and was a very brave man, was only partially\nconvinced but finally consented saying: \"I'm not afraid of you--one\nwrong move and you're a dead man. I have had enough trouble with you.\nI will take you into the yard, but beware!\"\n\nWell armed, he marched the man into the yard. There the prisoner led\nhim to the extreme end, and taking away some dry leaves and boards he\nsaid to the warden, \"Look in.\" The warden did so and, O, what a sight\nmet his eyes! There, in a hole, were knives, guns, and other weapons!\nStaggering back he exclaimed, \"My ----, where did you get those\nthings?\" \"It don't matter where I got them,\" replied the prisoner,\n\"but take me back to my cell and then take away these weapons. I\nintended to liberate the prison tomorrow morning and would have done\nso if that woman had not come and preached here today. I am a changed\nman now.\"\n\nHow he got those weapons was a mystery, but he had been long years\nplanning an escape, and had chosen some of the most daring of his\nfellow prisoners (both those inside and others who had gone out) to\naid him! Whether he could have succeeded or not, doubtless many lives\neither of officers or prisoners or of both would have been lost had\nthe attempt been made. But God wrought so mightily that instead of\nlives being lost precious souls were saved. Several were converted\nthat day who are still living noble Christian lives. Others may be,--I\nleave that with God. I do not know whether the leader is still living\nor not, but have heard that he was dead. At any rate he served his\nlong sentence and claimed to be still a Christian when he left the\nprison.\n\n\n                            HAVOC OF SIN.\n\nAmong the many who were converted during that Sunday morning service\nin 1888, was a very amiable, intelligent, refined-appearing young man,\nstill in his teens, who was serving under life sentence. He was a real\n\"mother's boy,\" so young and so small that after his conversion I used\nto call him my little son. He belonged to one of the best families of\nthe state. His father was a physician and a classmate and friend of\nthe governor. For the sake of his broken-hearted parents, as well as\nhis own, and being satisfied that he was really innocent of the crime\nof which he had been convicted, I began to pray earnestly for his\nrelease. But the case dragged on and though he was pardoned some years\nlater, it was not until after his father died broken-hearted and the\nmother's health had failed under her weight of sorrow and an aunt had\ngone insane.\n\nDuring his imprisonment I at one time visited his poor mother in her\nhome. Oh! what havoc sin had wrought! What sorrow! For though I\nbelieve him entirely innocent of the crime for which he was condemned,\nhis conviction was the result of his being led astray by evil\ninfluences and associates.\n\nOh, that I could warn young men of the dangers of bad company, and\nthat I could warn parents of the dangers of discouraging their\nchildren in waiting upon and serving God.\n\nWhen this boy was quite young, he wanted to become a Christian and\nengage in work for souls, but his parents thought it would be a\ndisgrace, as they were aristocratic, but alas! what snares had the\nenemy set for him, from which he might have entirely escaped, if they\nhad encouraged him to be true to God.\n\nI received many letters from him while he was in prison and quote from\ntwo of them. We have not heard from him for years but trust that if\nalive he is still living for God and Heaven.\n\n                                      Waupun, Wis., July 7, 1895.\n\n     Dear Mother, \"In His Name\":\n\n     Since my last letter to you several things of interest have\n     transpired. My attorney went to see the governor and then came to\n     see me. We went over some evidence, and at last I convinced them\n     that I alone can untangle the skein of false evidence.\n\n     I located a Mrs. N. and she gave an affidavit which would have\n     cleared me at my trial. She said she felt that she had been the\n     cause of all my suffering, but that she went to LaCrosse at the\n     time of my trial and was met at the train by a detective, who\n     told her if she wanted to keep out of serious trouble to take the\n     first train out of the city, and she did so. I expect to soon\n     have another witness to corroborate her statement. Then if I can\n     locate the sister of the deceased and get her evidence I will\n     have a sure case against those who perjured themselves to send me\n     here.\n\n     Yes, I have placed all my life in God's hands and have begun my\n     work here; but, being a convict, I am much hindered. Therefore,\n     in order to do a more abundant and faithful service, I desire my\n     freedom. If I get it, I will try and enter the Moody Institute\n     and take a course of training for the work. Mrs. K. is anxious to\n     have me do so.\n\n     Our chaplain will preside over our Christian Endeavor Society. I\n     recently sent out my report to be read at the Boston convention\n     in session the 10th inst., and I ventured, in the light of all\n     events, to place the following motto over our penitentiary:\n     \"Wisconsin Prison for Christ\" for the coming year, and by the\n     time of the next convention, I hope to be out to represent the\n     Christian Endeavor boys.\n\n     Brother H. told me of a song you sing. \"Some Mother's Child\" is\n     the song. Will says it is simply sublime and I ought to have it.\n     Such songs turn the mind back to home and to the memory of fond\n     parents and loved ones. Such pieces are always very sacred to me.\n\n     God bless you and spare you for many years to come, that you may\n     continue to be a Mother to the prisoners of earth. Write me when\n     you can.\n\n     I am your loving little son, \"In His Name,\"\n\n                                                          ALBERT.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Waupun, Wis., Nov. 27, 1895.\n\n     My Dear Mother:\n\n     Your excellent letter duly at hand. Both Brother Colgrove and I\n     were surprised, for we had concluded that God in His infinite\n     love and wisdom had carried you home.\n\n     I am at work here in the official building, in the office of our\n     dear chaplain. Brother Colgrove is in the hospital across the\n     hall from our office. I have talked with the chaplain about your\n     coming, and he says to tell you to come and stay two weeks. He\n     would like to have you spend two Sundays, and in the meantime we\n     will no doubt, under the present warden, be able to secure the\n     evenings during the week for a series of revival meetings.\n\n     Lovingly your son in the work,\n\n                                                          ALBERT.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n    Guilt comes not, thundering on the wings of time,\n    With vice-distorted feature and the leer of crime,\n    But like enchanting vision from a pagan dream,\n    Or softly echoed cadence of a whispering stream,\n    She steals upon us gently, with ever-changing art,\n    And usurps an empire--the waiting human heart!\n    Her outward form is beauty, her voice with Passion tense,\n    She only craves the privilege to gratify each sense;\n    All apparent pleasures 'round her path are spread,\n    But, alas! you seize the flower to find its fragrance fled;\n    But still pursuing, row with bated breath,\n    You clasp her to your bosom and--embrace a death!\n    Then, conscience stricken, you the wreck survey,\n    And with shuddering horror--humbly kneel to pray;\n    While the pitying angels on their pinions bear\n    The ever sacred burden of repentant prayer,\n    And almighty love descending reasserts control,\n    And mercy in the guise of grace has won a human _soul_.\n\n                                            --_A Prisoner._\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAPTER X.\n\n       Remarkable Conversion and Experience of George H. Colgrove.\n\n\nAmong the others who were saved that fourth day of November, 1888, at\nWaupun, Wis., was the very remarkable case of Geo. H. Colgrove. Years\nafterwards the chaplain said of him, \"I regard him as an ideal--one of\nwhom you would expect this report: 'If ever there was a good Christian\nman on earth he is one.'\" At one time he had three Bible classes in\nprison each week--one in English and two in German--and was the means\nof the accomplishment of much good in the conversion of prisoners.\n\n[Illustration: GEO. H. COLGROVE.]\n\n\n                             HIS OWN STORY.\n\nThe story of his life and conversion is given, as nearly as possible,\nin his own words, but as found in two different statements--some\nparticulars being given in one that were not in the other--in order to\nmake the account as complete as I can.\n\n     It is very difficult for one in prison, especially, to write of\n     themselves without giving to strangers the impression of either\n     vanity and conceit on the one hand or of craft and deception on\n     the other. Therefore, it is with considerable hesitation that I\n     write. Yet my greet indebtedness to \"Mother\" Wheaton, who was\n     chosen of God as the agent through whom His wondrous work should\n     be made manifest to the world in my salvation, as also of many\n     others, has at last led me to make the following statement:\n\n     Just on the verge of manhood, at the age of nineteen, I obtained\n     some _infidel literature_ of the mild stamp, yet scholarly and\n     persuasive withal, containing no harsh criticism of Christian\n     people and principles. This aroused my interest and admiration\n     and led to my obtaining more of a like nature, until under their\n     combined influence my youthful mind was entirely surrendered to\n     such doubts and disbelief as they advocated.\n\n     This was the pivotal point in my early life from which I started\n     down the deceitful road that leads from peace, happiness and\n     honor into the depths of sorrow, infamy and despair. Having thus\n     imbibed the subtle poison of infidelity, I soon became blinded\n     and indifferent to the rights of my fellowmen and to the enormity\n     of violating divine law.\n\n                             BURGLARY AND MURDER.\n\n     From this low plane of morality it was easy to enter the path of\n     crime; and this I did, following the precarious calling of\n     burglary for five years. This dark way ended in the midnight\n     gloom of a murderer. Detection, arrest and conviction followed in\n     rapid succession, soon bringing down upon me the crushing weight\n     of a \"life sentence.\" So that on a cold wintry night the officers\n     of the law delivered me within the portals of a living tomb.\n\n     Four dark, hopeless, weary years succeeded. Yet the Lord in His\n     great mercy had not forgotten me; and when all the world deserted\n     me, then He in His loving kindness took me up and His favor was\n     manifested through the instrumentality of \"Mother\" Wheaton.\n\n     During the early years of my incarceration no words could portray\n     my intense and bitter hatred of Christianity and anything\n     pertaining thereto. Feeling that I had sold my soul to the prince\n     of darkness, it enraged me to be reminded of a better life, or a\n     possible Heaven.\n\n     Burning with the fires of hatred and revenge toward those whom I\n     knew had unjustly deceived and wronged me, my only desire was to\n     escape from here even long enough to rush upon my enemies and\n     hurl their souls into eternity, and then follow them immediately\n     if need be. I continually planned and schemed for the\n     accomplishment of this purpose, and had a plan of escape well\n     defined and was making arrangements to put it into execution,\n     when one bright and beautiful Sunday morning it was announced\n     that a lady preacher was going to hold services in the chapel\n     that day.\n\n     Though I did not often attend church, yet on this occasion I\n     swore some big round oaths that I would go up and hear the lady\n     talk.\n\n     That was the morning of November 4, 1888. The beautiful sun that\n     shines alike on mansion and cottage, palace and prison, shone as\n     though a special degree of radiance had been granted to light a\n     benighted soul on its way out of darkness into light. But I\n     entered the chapel with cold indifference, drawn only by\n     curiosity--at least so far as I knew; but results proved that God\n     was leading. I awaited developments; _and they came_. Our prison\n     chaplain introduced \"Mother\" Wheaton, whom I had never seen\n     before, and announced the services as \"entirely in her hands.\"\n     She gave us a short, earnest, impressive address; then she and\n     the sister who came with her sang \"Meet me there.\"\n\n     During the singing I heard an accompanying strain, low and\n     inexpressibly sweet, the like of which I had never heard nor\n     imagined.\n\n     The two sounds harmonized, yet were distinct, but oh, how lovely!\n     Words fail to convey the most distant idea of their soothing and\n     attractive power.\n\n     The thought flashed through my mind, \"That is delicious music to\n     fall upon ears that have listened to the sound of murderous\n     guns.\"\n\n     Suddenly and with all the vividness of continuous lightning\n     dispelling dense darkness, revealing all surrounding objects\n     distinctly, the awful depth and blackness of my iniquitous career\n     blazed up before my mental view, like a clear and definite\n     painting of each act in my wicked life--portrayed on canvas by a\n     master hand and set in clearest rays of the noonday sun. And at\n     the same time there was given an assurance of forgiveness, if\n     accepted then.\n\n     Surprise, consternation and intense fear came with this\n     revelation of myself to myself, as my depraved spiritual\n     condition was, for the first time, fully realized. Also as\n     distinctly and positively it was granted me to know that _my last\n     opportunity_ for divine favor was before me. Accept and be saved\n     or reject and be _eternally lost_! Such was the alternative.\n\n     Although every nerve thrilled in rebellion against Christianity\n     and a thousand obstacles seemed to intervene, rendering a change\n     in my course of life impossible, yet I dared not refuse that\n     stern, terrific ultimatum, \"_Your last opportunity_,\" and before\n     its mighty mandate my proud, headstrong, sin-burdened soul\n     _surrendered unto Jesus of Nazareth_.\n\n     I wished to fly from the room, but could not. I felt frightened\n     at the power which was mastering me, and thought in a confused\n     way of the ridicule which would be heaped upon me, of my intended\n     escape, and of revenge upon my foes. Ah! what? Revenge? No, no\n     revenge now. No, no. That was all gone. The evil desire had thus\n     suddenly been removed without my knowledge, and in its stead\n     there reigned in my heart and in the depths of my soul a feeling\n     of forgiveness and peace, both between them and myself and\n     between myself and my God.\n\n     I said, \"Surely the Lord has visited me this day; for I came in\n     here a devil in human form, and now my dark sins are forgiven and\n     I am free. Glory to God!\"\n\n     The chaplain and warden were nearly thunderstruck to learn that\n     the low, miserable, worthless wretch, the hopeless vagabond,\n     Colgrove, had been brought to the foot of the cross; still they\n     must have entertained but little hope of my remaining in the\n     straight and narrow path that leadeth unto life. How could they?\n     They had not heard that strange music which had floated in on my\n     soul. They could not feel the awakening which was permeating and\n     ringing through the corridors of my heart, nor could they\n     perceive the realizing sense of divine favor which was so clear\n     to my own consciousness.\n\n     That very week it was impressed on my mind that I must at once\n     commence the study of the Holy Scriptures for work in the cause\n     of God and devote the remainder of my life to leading my\n     fellowmen, and especially prisoners, into the light of Calvary. I\n     said, \"What will it all amount to--I a friendless prisoner,\n     doomed for life?\" An answering whisper came, \"Friendless, with\n     Jesus for your friend? Study the Word.\" So in blindness, with\n     fear and trembling, doubts and misgivings, I took from my shelf\n     in the prison cell the neglected, despised and dust-covered Bible\n     and commenced studying the Word to the best of my ability, with\n     none but God to direct or assist me except a hasty explanation\n     now and then from the chaplain as he passed on his hurried rounds\n     through the cell rooms.\n\n     I immediately destroyed the implements of destruction and escape\n     which I had made during two years previous to my conversion.\n     Instead of dirks and saws, my hands now grasped the Bible and the\n     cross; and thanks be unto Jesus of Nazareth, they still retain\n     their hold, and I believe with ever increasing strength.\n\n     The way thus far has been rendered more pleasant by the hand of\n     the Lord than I then thought possible amid such dark\n     surroundings. With an ever realizing sense of my unworthiness I\n     have been kindly led in the way of life and am eleven years\n     nearer my eternal Home; while in my soul there is the \"peace of\n     God which passeth all understanding\" which is an additional\n     evidence of the faithful care and guidance of Jehovah. During the\n     last decade the motto of my life has been, as through future\n     years it shall ever be (Isaiah 26:4): \"Trust ye in the Lord\n     forever, for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength.\"\n\n     I know not whether earthly freedom will ever be mine, but I do\n     know that, if it is His holy and righteous will, it will be given\n     me; and I know that it matters little, for earthly joys must soon\n     fade away, and down at the close of the earthly journey Jesus is\n     waiting for me. And with my weak and faltering hand laid in His\n     strong and mighty one I shall walk through the dark waters of the\n     Jordan of death, and with Him kindly leading His rescued child we\n     shall enter with joy and eternal thanksgiving the beautiful \"city\n     whose maker and builder is God.\"\n\nThe following extracts from letters written me at different times\nafter his conversion will, I believe, interest the reader:\n\n                                     Waupun, Wis., Sept. 5, 1891.\n\n     Mrs. E. Wheaton:\n\n     Dear Christian Friend: No news received since you were here has\n     afforded me so much pleasure as the announcement of your return.\n\n     It was through your earnest work that I was converted. When you\n     came here before there was, I presume, no more sinful, hopeless,\n     hardened, miserable wretch inside these walls than myself. When I\n     entered the prison chapel that Sabbath morning, November 4, 1888,\n     I for one came to observe, sneer and laugh. But while you were\n     singing that glorious anthem, \"Meet Me There,\" power from above\n     opened my spiritual vision to see the horrible condition of my\n     soul, and so enabled me to realize my great need of divine favor.\n     I thank God and will bless His holy name forever that in His\n     infinite wisdom and kindness He brought me inside these walls and\n     sent you, His chosen instrument, to lead my wandering\n     sin-darkened soul into the path that leadeth unto life eternal.\n\n     Amid the trials, cares and vexations of the passing days I often\n     look up to the blue vault of heaven's dome and rejoice at the\n     thought that the flying moments and hastening hours are bringing\n     me nearer, ever nearer to the blessed hour when I shall meet\n     Jesus face to face and clasp His rescuing hand, never from Him to\n     part. Ah, never to part! Thanks unto God most high.\n\n     May the Lord ever bless you, my dear spiritual Mother. Good-bye.\n\n                                                         G. H. C.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Waupun, Wis., Oct. 29, 1891.\n\n     My Dear Spiritual Mother:\n\n     Your kind letter most gladly received. I am surprised that our\n     boys do not write more frequently to you. They often inquire as\n     to your whereabouts and health and ever have a good word for you\n     and your work. Even many who do not care for their soul's\n     salvation speak favorably of Mrs. Wheaton.\n\n     God knows how much your letters cheer me and brighten the prison\n     gloom. After twenty years of infidelity, with all its direful\n     train of evils, leading on from bad to worse, the prison gate\n     threw its protective barrier between society and one who had\n     become almost a devil in human form, thus showing that a just God\n     had taken account of my iniquitous course and had said, \"Thus far\n     and no farther.\" Then followed four years of hopeless misery,\n     borne with the sullen stolidity of despair, while in thought,\n     intent and purpose I sank lower and lower into the horrible\n     cesspool of criminality, and farther and farther away from God.\n     Then, in His infinite mercy, He sent you with the message of\n     salvation, which He crowned with His invincible power of\n     conviction and a realization of my lost and hopeless condition.\n\n     My prayers shall ever be with you, dear sister, and if I might\n     send a message by you to all the prisoners from the pine-shadowed\n     shores of Maine to the far Alaskan mountains it would be this:\n     \"Ye captives, look aloft to the Star of Bethlehem, and whatever\n     betide, do not fail to grasp the hand stretched out to you from\n     Calvary.\" Hoping to hear from you soon and praying God to ever\n     bless you I remain,\n\n                     Yours for God and humanity,\n                                                  G. H. COLGROVE.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Waupun, Wis., Sept. 4, 1892.\n\n     My Dear Mother:\n\n     How many, many times I have thanked our kind Father above and\n     praised His Holy Name for sending you to our prison gate on that\n     November night in 1888. Three years and ten months ago today the\n     radiant light of Calvary, fresh from the throne of the Infinite,\n     came, through your ministrations, down into the dark recesses of\n     my sin-burdened heart and crime-laden soul, while mingled with\n     the music of the sweet hymn you and your companion were singing\n     the heavenly strains of an angelic accompaniment so entrancingly\n     and irresistibly soothing and lovely that my hardened heart\n     melted like frost before the noonday sun.\n\n     Can you believe that I stayed to that after-meeting when every\n     nerve in my body thrilled to get up and run out of the chapel?\n     Yes, I desired to flee; yet an irresistible power restrained me.\n     I know now it was Satan urging me to flee away from there; for\n     he, of course, readily understood that he was in danger of losing\n     an active member from his minions of evil. But thanks be unto\n     Jehovah, who ruleth over all, Satan failed. God and His servant\n     held the field and a soul was redeemed from death. Glory to God\n     forever and ever. Amen.\n\n     The years from that time have been so pleasant and bright, though\n     spent where sorrow, misery and gloom were on every hand, as I\n     journey on to our beautiful home everlasting, which Jesus has\n     gone to prepare.\n\n       \"Filled with delight, my raptured soul\n         Would here no longer stay,\n       Though Jordan's waves around me roll\n         Fearless I launch away.\"\n\n       \"When peace like a river attends on my way\n         Where sorrows like sea billows roll,\n       Whatever my lot, thou halt taught me to say\n         It is well, it is well, with my soul.\"\n\n       \"When we've been there ten thousand years,\n         Bright shining as the sun,\n       We've no less days to sing his praise\n         Than when we first begun.\"\n\n     Yes, since your first visit here my bark of life has been\n     \"standing away\" on her new course over the sea of life, and she\n     is now nearly four years nearer the heavenly harbor, where\n     destructive gales of temptation will never sweep the white sails\n     of purity from the \"masts of purpose,\" nor break the \"yard arms\"\n     of effort, nor rolling breakers of iniquity dash her upon the\n     rocky shore of eternal ruin.\n\n     Mother, please give my kindest wishes to all who are helping you\n     in the great work which Jesus established while on earth and\n     which He left for us to continue until the resounding trump and\n     advancing angel hosts proclaim His return to our earth to claim\n     His own and crown the redeemed. When the sullen and long silent\n     graves shall release their victims and the long absent fleet of\n     the lower ocean shall again whiten the seas with their snowy\n     sails and bring their passengers and crews to join the vast\n     congregation assembled before the judgment seat of Christ.\n\n                           Ever yours,\n                                                         G. H. C.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n     Waupun, Wis., Jan. 14, 1895.\n\n     Dear Mother:\n\n     Your kind and most welcome letter very gladly received. It is\n     ever one of my chief pleasures to hear from you.\n\n     There was a man here by the name of William L., who led a very\n     godless life, being extremely profane. During the past summer he\n     was transferred to the prison hospital. On September 4 I was\n     placed in charge of the sick ward as assistant steward, and I\n     found this man L. in here when I took charge of this department.\n     He had been a bitter enemy of mine for several years, as he was\n     utterly opposed to Christianity, and he tried to utterly\n     disregard me. I continued to treat him kindly, which was, of\n     course, a Christian duty which we owe to our Heavenly Father, and\n     in a short time he grew into the habit of calling on me for\n     favors, and as he sank lower I spent the night with him. One\n     evening he spoke of you and said: \"Oh! I wish I could hear\n     'Mother' Wheaton sing one of her sweet hymns.\"\n\n     During three days and nights he continued to speak of you. The\n     last day on which he mentioned you was in the morning about 8\n     o'clock. While sitting in his chair beside the bed he said very\n     earnestly and emphatically: \"I would give a dollar to hear\n     'Mother' Wheaton sing one of her sweet hymns just now--right\n     here and now.\"\n\n     About midnight that night he sat in his bed looking upward for\n     some time in silence and then dropped his head in a most dejected\n     manner and in mournful tone exclaimed, \"No, no, no.\" The intense\n     sadness of his manner made my heart ache for him. After that hour\n     he appeared to have given up all hope. The death chill came on\n     while he was in the rocking chair, and he asked me to assist him\n     into bed and send for the prison physician. He expressed himself\n     well satisfied with the treatment he had had while sick, and\n     then, seeing it was too hard work for him to talk, he relapsed\n     into silence, while I offered a silent prayer for the departing\n     soul.\n\n     I write this explanation because of the intense desire he had to\n     see you and hear you sing once more.\n\n     The Christian Endeavor still exists by the power and blessing of\n     God, and my Bible class is continuing and some good has been\n     accomplished through its instrumentality.\n\n     Rev. B. has left us. Our new spiritual guide and counselor is\n     Rev. Simerville, an earnest Christian, whose influence bids fair\n     to lead many hitherto careless ones to turn their footsteps in\n     the straight and narrow path that leads to life. The beacon light\n     to Calvary cheers us on every day to our eternal home. Meet me\n     there. Good-bye, Mother. God bless you now and ever.\n\n                                                  G. H. COLGROVE.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Waupun, Wis., Nov. 28, 1895.\n\n     Dearest Mother:\n\n     Your kind and welcome letter gladly received. Brother Albert\n     wrote you yesterday and I sincerely hope the invitation extended\n     to you by the chaplain and contained in Albert's letter, will be\n     promptly acted upon and that we shall soon behold your face among\n     us once more and again hear the songs of Zion fall from your\n     lips.\n\n     Albert is librarian and the chaplain's assistant, while this\n     child is assistant steward at the hospital; thus we shall be able\n     to meet you frequently if you will spend a couple of weeks with\n     us, and a forty-day month can be used to good advantage in Waupun\n     and visiting among the bad boys like us, and your many good\n     friends in this locality.\n\n     The Lord has given us a Christian man for warden and I can tell\n     you, dear Mother, we find that the warden, the chaplain and the\n     Lord God Almighty make a strong combination. If \"Mother Wheaton\"\n     will come and join them the quartette will be complete and this\n     prison can receive such a baptism of grace that his satanic\n     majesty will hate the very name of Waupun.\n\n     God's blessing ever be yours and hoping to meet you once more\n     this side the golden gate,\n\n                       I am your spiritual son,\n                                                  G. H. COLGROVE.\n\nThe following short extract is from a letter to a brother who had\nbecome interested in Brother Colgrove and had written him:\n\n                                    Waupun, Wis., April 30, 1897.\n\n     Mr. H----, Dear Christian Brother.\n\n     Your kind letter received, and I most sincerely hope it may be\n     preliminary to a long continued and beneficial correspondence. It\n     will ever be a pleasure to hear from you, so please write when\n     convenient, and I will do as well as my adverse surroundings will\n     permit.\n\n     I am pleased to learn of the continued successful work of dear\n     \"Mother Wheaton,\" and it is a source of great encouragement to me\n     to meet and converse with Sister Kelley. We shall undoubtedly\n     have her for a spiritual leader when our toil-worn \"Mother\" has\n     been summoned to her rest and reward by the great Master.\n\n     Please write soon and often to\n\n                                            Your friend,\n                                                  G. H. COLGROVE.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Waupun, Wis., Oct. 25, 1897.\n\n     Dear Mother:\n\n     Your kind and most welcome letter gladly received and the\n     unexpected photo was a very delightful surprise. A thousand\n     thanks. I have many, many times wished I had a picture of the one\n     whom God selected as my helper to lead me from the dark valley of\n     despair in which I was then dwelling up into the radiant light of\n     Calvary.\n\n     November 4th next will complete nine years of the homeward\n     journey since Jesus set my face Zionward, so we are nine years\n     nearer the heavenly shore and from the watch tower of the golden\n     city the beacon light beams bright and fair, welcoming us into\n     the port of peace. Our duties are pressing, time is flying, the\n     whistle and signal bells are sounding, and I must close for this\n     time.\n\n                               Kindly and sincerely yours,\n                                                  G. H. COLGROVE.\n\nIn 1897, as indicated in the two following letters especial effort was\nmade to secure Brother Colgrove's pardon, which I believe would have\nbeen successful but for lack of wisdom on the part of some of his\nfriends. As it was Brother C. was doomed to spend the remainder of his\nlife in bondage.\n\n                                     Waupun, Wis., Oct. 10, 1897.\n\n     Dear Mother:\n\n     When you were here you offered to call on the Governor of\n     Wisconsin in my behalf. I thank you a thousand times for that\n     kindness.\n\n     Since you were here I have been promoted to the position of\n     prison librarian. That places me in the Chaplain's office, and it\n     is the position occupied by the Washburn banker when you were\n     here.\n\n     I have received a letter from Mrs. Worcester in Natal, South\n     Africa, lately. It was just thirty-five days in coming through.\n     It was intensely interesting. One of our boys died last night and\n     two life members have died since you were here. One was a\n     Christian.\n\n     Dear Mother, the enclosed card shows date, locality and offense.\n     I have been here over twelve years, and have a clear prison\n     record. My Christian work you are well versed in, as you were\n     God's chosen instrument for my conversion. Nine years of\n     Christian life on Nov. 4th next.\n\n     If possible please inform me when you will be in Madison, and may\n     our Heavenly Father bless you, and crown your effort with\n     success. My papers are all in the executive chambers at Madison.\n     I have recommendations from many parties, and from my trial\n     judge, Hon. A. Scott Sloan. My jury did not support my\n     application, but the judge did. He is now dead, but he gave me a\n     splendid letter, and it should be just as effective. I shall have\n     to ask you to wait for your reward, until freedom comes to me,\n     and then you will not be forgotten. I hope Sister Kelley can\n     accompany you on your Madison trip.\n\n     I received a letter from your friend Miss Josephine Cowgill,\n     Jerusalem, with several cards of Palestine flowers; those that\n     grew in Mount Olivet I have framed and they are hanging in our\n     office.\n\n     I am on duty from 5 a. m. to 9 p. m.\n\n                            Sincerely and kindly yours,\n                                                  G. H. COLGROVE.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n     Waupun, Wis., Nov. 7, 1897.\n\n     Dear Mother:\n\n     Inclosed please find copy of letter just received from Executive\n     Clerk. It will be useful perhaps as a reference when you reach\n     Madison. The entire recommendation from my judge is there as is\n     stated herein. My judge is now deceased. A letter received today\n     from ex-Chaplain T. J. Brown, now of Lancaster, Wisconsin,\n     informs me that he will gladly meet you at Madison, and assist\n     you in any way possible. One of our officers is also making\n     arrangements with a Madison party to join you at that time. So we\n     seem well favored and I regard it as indicative of divine favor,\n     for all the present participants are Christians and we may\n     therefore hope for especial favor from our heavenly Father.\n\n     The Lord be with you in all your ways. As ever,\n\n                                            Sincerely yours,\n                                                  G. H. COLGROVE.\n\nThe enclosed letter read as follows:\n\n                  Executive Chamber, Madison, Wis., Nov. 4, 1897.\n\n     Mr. G. H. Colgrove, State Prison, Waupun.\n\n     My Dear Sir: I have looked up the matter about which you wrote me\n     on Oct. 21st, and find there is a letter from Judge Sloan among\n     your papers. This letter says, among other things: \"If it be true\n     that Mr. Colgrove has behaved himself well during his\n     imprisonment and has thoroughly reformed, I think he ought to be\n     pardoned.\"\n\n                             Yours truly,\n                              WM. J. ANDERSON, Private Secretary.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                      Waupun, Wis., May 1, 1901.\n\n     Dear Mother and Sister:\n\n     Your kind letters of 24th ult, duly at hand, and as you wrote in\n     unison, I hope this companion letter will be acceptable. I am\n     pleased to learn that your book work is progressing and will soon\n     be launched upon the restless sea of activity, and accomplishing\n     good work under the divine blessing, leading souls into the light\n     that never shall fade while Eternity rolls its unending years.\n     Sorry that so much sickness and suffering has fallen to the lot\n     of each of you, but rejoice that it is passed and can not assail\n     you again in this world, and in the world to come \"There shall be\n     no more pain; for the former things are passed away.\" There, the\n     cheeks which we here beheld pale with suffering and tear-stained\n     by sorrow, will be mantling with the rich glow of everlasting\n     health and radiant in the matchless loveliness of deathless\n     bloom. A refreshing rain has broken a long drouth here, and the\n     world looks lovely and sparkling in the golden sunlight this\n     beautiful May morning. As we behold the face of the earth\n     beautified by the hand of God, it is a source of regret that all\n     this harmony of nature, this smiling peace and bloom, is marred\n     and clouded by the dark stain which iniquity has brought into\n     this fair world; and the sad, stern fact confronts us, that \"The\n     dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty.\"\n     But it is true. Peace in its entirety, and purity in divine\n     perfection, are fled from this world, and we cannot possess them\n     in full until we have passed beyond Jordan's cold wave and\n     through the dark portals which intervene between this\n     sin-darkened land and the glory crowned hills of Immanuel's Land.\n     But it is a soul-cheering fact that we are daily and hourly\n     nearing that blest clime where sin and sorrow can no more cast\n     the cloud of estrangement between us and the Divine Master who\n     arose triumphant over sin and death and in His eternal majesty\n     and power has gone to prepare for our home coming.\n\n     Though our barque of life may be tossed by violent seas of\n     strife, and meet with disaster in various forms, so long as we\n     know that Jesus is awaiting us in the Harbor of Peace we are not\n     dismayed by the howling blast nor raging billows of earthly\n     storm, but relying on His unfailing promise we keep in mind the\n     coming greeting of the great Master and remember\n\n       \"By cool Siloam's shady rill\n         How fair the lily grows;\n       How sweet the breath beneath the hill\n         Of Sharon's dewy rose.\"\n\n     Yes, Mother, I too am glad and thankful that the Lord sent you to\n     Waupun and into our chapel on that glorious autumn morning, Nov.\n     4, 1888. Surely the good work then accomplished has not been\n     extinguished, although Satan has exerted himself to cast dark\n     clouds of misunderstanding, strife and contention over it all.\n     But the light of Calvary shines amid the gloom, the heavenly\n     sheen of the cross of Christ sheds a halo of undying and\n     imperishable glory over all, that like the pillar of fire that\n     led the hosts of Israel through the wilderness, will lead and\n     sustain each weary heart, until we arrive on Jordan's banks, and\n     raise the song of everlasting triumph, as we view our eternal\n     home.\n\n     With kind regards to each, and best wishes for your happiness and\n     welfare, I remain,\n\n                                   Sincerely and kindly yours,\n                                                  G. H. COLGROVE.\n\nThe following letter from a dear sister who is deeply interested in\nprison work is inserted here because of its reference to Brother\nColgrove:\n\n                               Minneapolis, Minn., Dec. 19, 1900.\n\n     My Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     I cannot tell you how very glad I was to hear from you; and to\n     know that you have been blest all along the way, is indeed good\n     news. Some one asked the question, \"What is the best thing that\n     can be said of a friend?\" Many answers were given, one good one\n     being \"He rests me,\" but the best answer was \"He inspires me.\"\n     This can be truly said of you. No one more than yourself inspires\n     me to live a true Christian life. I do want to be ready at all\n     times to serve Christ.\n\n       \"Just ready to do His bidding,\n       If only I do His will.\n       Then I will be ready to meet him\n       When shadows flee away\n       Ready to serve Him perfectly\n       When dawns eternal day.\"\n\n     Last week we had another meeting at the Soldiers' Home. You\n     cannot imagine how we missed you. So many of the sick men\n     inquired for you. One said if you would only come back he would\n     shout for joy. Of course it made me very happy to know that they\n     had received such a blessing from your talk. This same man said\n     he had prayed for you every night.\n\n     The young man that called for you to come out to see him in the\n     jail was sent to St. Cloud for two and a half years. The poor\n     colored man was sent to State's Prison at Stillwater for five\n     years.\n\n     The strangest thing has happened since the last time Mrs. ----was\n     at Waupun. Mr. Colgrove's wife, whom he had not heard from for\n     twelve years, has been to see him. His young lady daughter, whom\n     he thought dead, is living. Is not that precious news? I am sure\n     Mr. Colgrove must be the happiest man inside of these walls just\n     now. Had a good letter from S. yesterday.\n\n     I have Christmas cards for all of the women and some for the men\n     in the prison. Must say good bye.\n\n                     Your sincere friend and sister in Christ,\n                                                      GERTRUDE M.\n\nFrom an editorial written by Brother Colgrove while editor of the\nChristian Endeavor Department of the prison paper published at Waupun,\nwe clip the following:\n\n     Perhaps our uninformed friends may infer that we advocate the\n     abolition of all punishment in penal institutions. Not at all,\n     brother; nothing so absurd. But we do claim and will maintain to\n     our dying hour that punishment should be judicious, and only when\n     the culprit will not heed any humane treatment nor be influenced\n     by admonition.\n\n     When punishment and imposition are used at the mere caprice of\n     some low down scoundrel, instead of discretionary treatment, at\n     the behest of a man of sense, reason and upright principle, the\n     effect has ever been, and will ever be, to develop the worst\n     traits inherent in the nature of the individual whom the laws\n     have already pronounced unsafe, and when released, the\n     consequences of that development, are going to fall on some\n     innocent and unoffending member of the law-abiding class. When we\n     consider the vast amount of mischief which one criminal can\n     accomplish in an incredibly short space of time, have we not\n     cause to be thankful that all over our land are self-sacrificing\n     souls, brave men and women, who are determined in the face of all\n     opposition, ridicule and every evil, to use every possible means\n     within their power, to elevate and reform all of the criminal\n     class, who may by any means be led from the old path of sorrow\n     and misery to themselves and danger to the peace and well-being\n     of their brother men?\n\n     Men and women who will place in the hand of the prisoner the\n     Bible, in exchange for the revolver, dagger and bottle? The\n     citizen in his quiet home, who is unacquainted with the prison\n     systems of the various forms which are being used in different\n     states, depends entirely upon the laws of the land to secure him\n     in the peaceful possession of his accumulated earnings. But\n     experience proves that human law alone and unassisted by higher\n     power _is not sufficient to guard the home from intrusion and\n     desecration by those who have no regard for right principles_.\n     The man who has criminal tendencies, and is not striving to\n     restrain them in conformity to divine law, will laugh the human\n     power to scorn, and trample the law of man under his feet\n     whenever there seems an opportunity of financial gain thereby.\n     _The man who has been led to observe and rightly regard the\n     divine law will have no occasion for inducement for infringing on\n     the laws of the land._ Therefore these reformers, both clergy and\n     laity, _are striking at the very root of crime, when they lift\n     the fallen out of the slough of vice and iniquity_, and _turn his\n     face toward the higher life and the city \"whose maker and builder\n     is God.\"_\n\nDuring the fall of 1903 I received several letters telling me that\nBrother George Colgrove could live but a short time. In December,\n1903, I visited again the prison at Waupun. I found Brother Colgrove\nin the Prison Hospital, very weak in body, but peaceful and resting in\nthe Saviour's love. Once more he related to the young sister who was\nwith me the wonderful story of his conversion; and how for over\nfifteen years he had been kept by the power of God, saved and filled\nwith love for God and souls. We knelt and prayed with him and sang his\nfavorite hymns and as I bade him farewell he said, \"Sister, if we\nnever meet on earth again I will meet you in Heaven.\"\n\nThat was our final parting. Brief notes from the chaplain and warden\ninformed me that Brother Colgrove died February 19, 1904, and that\nfuneral services (an unusual thing) were held in the prison chapel\nFebruary 21. The warden's letter contains this testimony. \"He died a\nChristian.\"\n\nBless God for his sustaining grace that is sufficient even amid the\ntrials of a prison life and enabled this one of his children to prove\ntrue to God for so many years, inside of prison walls!\n\nO how wonderful is the power of God to seek and to save that which was\nlost!\n\n[Illustration: SMELTER AND WORK-SHOPS, CHESTER, ILL.]\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XI.\n\n       Work in Stockades and Prison Camps in Southern States.\n\n\nDuring the first years of my missionary work I was led to stay much of\nthe time in the South. I was learning lessons in patience, faith and\nhumility before God. The cross was very heavy. In many places I was\nnot allowed to stay with white people if I preached to the negroes.\nTHE RACE QUESTION ran high and the color line was very closely drawn.\nIn those days I could not understand why this should be. I was taught\nin the word of God that all nations were made of one blood and that\nGod was the Father of us all. I was ignorant and the views of the\nsouthern people were new to me. In many cases, perhaps, I offended\nthem when I might have avoided it. I knew no better and they often\nthought me obstinate. But I was only obeying God the very best I knew\nin trying to keep immortal souls out of hell, and I knew that I must\nobey God though all the people should misunderstand and misjudge me. I\nfound nearly all of the prisoners of the South confined in Stockades\nand Prison Camps. In many cases the prisons themselves were almost\nempty.\n\nThe following are from among the many letters of introduction and\nrecommendation, received while laboring in the southern states:\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Montgomery, Ala., Dec. 30, 1884.\n\n     Col. J. T. Milner, Superintendent.\n\n     Dear Sir: This will be handed you by Mrs. Wheaton, who is a\n     prison missionary. She has been having religious exercises at\n     the various prisons in the state, and I respectfully request\n     that you will permit her to do so at New Castle.\n\n                                                 Yours truly,\n                                                  R. H. DAWSON,\n                        President Board of Inspectors of Prisons.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                   Raleigh, N. C., June 10, 1893.\n     Gulf, N. C., C. F. & Y. V. Railroad, Halifax farm (near Weldon);\n         Captain Bradshaw (near Weldon); Captain McMurray (near\n         Weldon, on canal); Captain McIver (near Tillery); Captain\n         Hamlet (near Tillery); Captain Lashley (near Castle Hayne).\n\n     The superintendent desires that every courtesy be shown Mrs.\n     Wheaton and Mrs. ----, and that they be given opportunities to\n     talk to the prisoners.\n\n                                         JNO. M. FLEMING, Warden.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                       Rusk, Texas, Jan. 9, 1888.\n\n     Mr. George Egbart, Coling Camp.\n\n     Dear Sir: This will introduce to you Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton,\n     prison missionary, who is making a tour through southern prisons.\n     She passed the day with me yesterday in the prison. I was pleased\n     with her manner and with her talk to the men. She wants the\n     privilege of talking with your men today at the dinner hour. I\n     think you will be pleased with her. Please give her the necessary\n     attention and may God bless you, bless her effort, and bless the\n     men.\n\n                                          J. C. WOOLAM, Chaplain.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                   EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENT OF ALABAMA.\n\n                            Convict Bureau.\n\n                                Pratt Mines, Ala., Nov. 30, 1889.\n\n     Mr. Thomas C. Dawson, Warden of State Prison, Wetumptka, Ala.\n\n     Dear Tom: This letter will introduce to you Mrs. Elizabeth R.\n     Wheaton and Mrs. ----, two ladies who are devoting their lives to\n     the benefit of convicts all over the United States.\n\n     These good ladies have done much good, and they should be treated\n     with every consideration. Give them rooms and access to your\n     convicts at both prisons. I hope a visit from them will result in\n     much good.\n\n                                            Your Father,\n                                               R. H. DAWSON,\n                                   President Board of Inspectors.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n       Huntsville Penitentiary, Huntsville, Texas, Jan. 13, 1892.\n\n     Capt. Abercrombie, Wynne Farm.\n\n     Dear Sir: This will introduce to you Mrs. Wheaton, who wishes to\n     talk to your men in a body. Any courtesies shown her will be\n     appreciated by me.\n\n                                              Yours truly,\n                                       J. G. SMITHER, Asst. Supt.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                       STATE OF NORTH CAROLINA.\n\n                     Executive Department, Raleigh, June 9, 1893.\n\n     Hon. A. Deazer, Supt. State's Prison.\n\n     Dear Sir: This introduces Mrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton, prison\n     evangelist. I have assured her that you will grant any request\n     she may make not in conflict with prison rules.\n\n                                  Very respectfully yours,\n                                            ELIAS CARR, Governor.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                      STATE OF NORTH CAROLINA.\n\n                    Executive Department, Raleigh, June 15, 1893.\n\n     His Excellency, B. R. Tillman, Governor of South Carolina,\n        Columbia, S. C.\n\n     Dear Sir: I have the honor and it gives me pleasure to state that\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton and Mrs. ----, prison evangelists, have\n     held religious services at the penitentiary farm and at the\n     penitentiary and have given satisfaction to the authorities in\n     both places, and it is thought that their services were\n     productive of great good. With highest esteem, I am,\n\n                                       Very truly yours,\n                                            ELIAS CARR, Governor.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                         STATE OF ALABAMA.\n\n                 Executive Department, Montgomery, April 3, 1896.\n\n     To all Wardens of Prisons within the State:\n\n     Elizabeth Rider Wheaton, the bearer hereof, is a prison\n     evangelist, and well recommended as a good lady. She is desirous\n     of holding services in the prisons. Any courtesy shown her will\n     be proper and commendable.\n\n                                      WILLIAM C. OAKES, Governor.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                         STATE OF GEORGIA.\n\n        Penitentiary Department, Atlanta, Georgia, June 30, 1893.\n\n      To the Captains in Charge of Convict Camps in Georgia:\n\n     I desire that each of you extend to these ladies, Mrs. Wheaton\n     and Mrs. ---- any courtesies possible during their stay with you,\n     that they may be given opportunities to talk to the men and women\n     in your charge. I will particularly appreciate any kindness shown\n     them. The governor requests that they be shown courtesies.\n\n                               GEORGE H. JONES, Principal Keeper.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                  Penitentiary, Columbia, S. C., August 11, 1893.\n\n     Mother Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Madam: It affords me much pleasure to say that we were glad\n     to have you come down to the prison and visit other camps\n     connected therewith, and we believe that you have done lasting\n     good among the prisoners.\n\n                                              Yours truly,\n                                      W. A. NEAL, Superintendent.\n\nAccompanying the above was a list of the convict camps connected with\nthe prison with the following order:\n\n     The sergeant in charge of the above camps will please admit Mrs.\n     E. R. Wheaton and Mrs. ---- and allow them to hold religious\n     service at the camp with the convicts.\n\n                                                      W. A. NEAL.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                          STATE OF FLORIDA.\n\n               Executive Department, Tallahassee, April 21, 1894.\n\n     Messrs. West Bros., West Farm, Fla.\n\n     Gentlemen: This will be presented by Mrs. Elizabeth Rider\n     Wheaton, prison evangelist, who is visiting the convict camps of\n     the state. Any courtesies and kindness extended to her will be\n     duly appreciated and reciprocated by,\n\n                                  Yours very respectfully,\n                                      D. LANG, Private Secretary.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                           STATE OF GEORGIA.\n\n           Penitentiary Department, Atlanta, Ga., March 21, 1896.\n\n     To the Captains in Charge of Convict Camps in Georgia:\n\n     I desire that each of you extend to Mrs. Wheaton and Mrs. ----\n     any courtesies possible during their stay with you, that they may\n     have an opportunity to talk with the prisoners. Any kindness\n     shown them will be appreciated by this office.\n\n                    JAKE C. MOORE, Assistant Keeper Penitentiary.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n          Executive Department, Governor's Office, Jackson, Miss.\n\n     Mr. J. J. Evans, Jr., Penitentiary.\n\n     Dear Sir: Mrs. Elizabeth Wheaton, who is interested in reform\n     work, desires to talk to the convicts. Any courtesy shown her\n     will be highly appreciated.\n\n     Very truly yours,\n                                     J. J. COMAN, Governor's Sec.\n\n\n                              A STOCKADE.\n\nMany inquire of me what a stockade or prison camp is. I will here\nexplain. A man, or party of men, lease or hire from the state the\nlabor of a certain number of prisoners for a certain length of time.\nThey are \"doing time,\" as the prisoners say, for the state. Both men\nand women are thus leased out. Their labor is used in clearing up\nland, working in cotton and sugar cane fields, in mines, in turpentine\ncamps, in building railroads, on brick-yards, in phosphate works or in\nany place where a company can work together. Their food consists\nmostly of swine's flesh and corn bread made with meal, water and salt.\n\nThe stockades are large rough wooden buildings, erected by the lessee,\nin which the prisoners are confined at night. The men are generally\nchained by one ankle to a heavy chain which reaches through the center\nof the building from one end to the other, being securely fastened to\nstrong posts. They usually sleep on the floor in the same clothing\nworn through the day--which is generally very scant and poor; but\nsometimes they may have a bunk and a rough dirty blanket. The stockade\nis guarded by men with loaded guns, and besides this every camp is\nabundantly supplied with great, strong bloodhounds. And woe to the\nunfortunate criminal that must be tracked and caught by them!\n\nEach prison camp has its mode of punishment for those who break the\nrules or fail to do as much as is allotted to them. The keepers of\npast years were often very cruel in their treatment, and seemed to\nenjoy the punishment which they inflicted upon those under their\ncontrol. These poor souls had no way of redress. If they should speak\nof the cruelty, they would be treated far worse; the penalty for such\na complaint being a severe whipping. Oh, God, how long shall the cry\nof the prisoner be heard? Lord Jesus, come quickly!\n\nEach camp has its officers, guards, etc., among whom is the whipping\nboss. And God pity the man or woman who falls into his cruel hands.\nThere is a board of prison inspectors, the president of which travels\nfrom place to place looking after the interests of all. The conditions\nof the stockades are much improved since I first went among them years\nago. I have gone to the governors of different states and pleaded for\nthe betterment of conditions in the prisons. Especially have I asked\nthat the women might have better treatment and not be whipped so\nbrutally for slight offenses or violation of the rules which the\nlessee is allowed to make. Upon one occasion I wrote the governor of a\ncertain state as follows:\n\n                                 Washington, D. C., May 10, 18--.\n\n     To His Excellency the Governer of ----.\n\n     Dear Brother: I write in behalf of the prisoners in your state\n     prison at B. M. I find them greatly in need of food and clothing.\n     The sick prisoners are suffering with hunger. I held services\n     there one week ago today, and went into the kitchen myself to see\n     what there was for sixteen sick men and those who are supposed to\n     wait on them, and I found only one half gallon of milk a day for\n     all, one chicken, very poor bread, no vegetables, no fruits, and\n     no seasoning but salt. Who is to blame for this? I find you feed\n     those prisoners (miners and farmers) on seven cents a day.\n\n     It is an outrage, a sin, a curse on this nation, the suffering\n     you men, you governors or officers, at least allow to exist in\n     prison walls. You permit those men in B. M. prison to be whipped\n     for not furnishing daily from three to five small car loads of\n     coal each, and feed them on food not sufficient to give them\n     strength to perform that amount of labor. God help you, my\n     friend! As you are the first officer of the state you should see\n     that this inhuman treatment is stopped.\n\n     Forty men were whipped in one day on two occasions, and on an\n     average there are from six to eight every day. These men are not\n     murmuring, I gave them no chance to tell me of this. But the\n     officers and their wives told me. I saw with my own eyes. The\n     water in those mountains is very impure and many of the men have\n     died from mere neglect. Many more will die soon unless something\n     is done for their relief. Governor, for God's sake, please look\n     after the temporal interests of your prisoners. I would have come\n     to you face to face and talked these things over if possible.\n     Recently I have been to see governors of several of the different\n     states. They are not aware of the treatment of convicts in their\n     own states, but I have seen it all these years of my pilgrimage.\n     The awful suffering I see is just breaking my heart. Poor lost\n     men and women! Who is responsible for the sin and crime and\n     suffering? Largely the saloon. Men and women are born in sin and\n     conceived in iniquity; shut in for years and years for some\n     little crime, and subjected to the hardest labor, serving out\n     sentence in prison under whip and lash. It is inhuman and unjust.\n     What will God Almighty require of you and me in the day of\n     judgment, For surely we must meet it and answer for our\n     stewardship here on earth. May God help me to deal faithfully and\n     do my duty by all classes--to those in authority as well as those\n     in bondage. Now, understand me, I have no personal grievances to\n     bring to you. It is simply mismanagement and the desire to run\n     these prisons on as cheap a scale as possible, to save money for\n     the State and hold position; and something must be done soon.\n\n     I told the men to be obedient and faithfully discharge their duty\n     as prisoners. In all my work in every state and territory,\n     Europe, Mexico and Canada, I have never had any trouble; and can\n     go again to all these prisons where I have held services. What\n     object have I? None, but the good of the souls and bodies of\n     those in bonds. They are my children, given me by the Lord, and I\n     feel as much compassion for them as you would for your child. All\n     the officers and people were kind to me and treated me with the\n     utmost respect. All I desire is that you obey God and cause this\n     starving and brutal treatment to cease. Please say nothing of\n     this letter but investigate for yourself and see if these things\n     are not so. Two meals a day (and very little then) for a sick man\n     is not enough.\n\n                                      Yours for humanity,\n                           MRS. E. R. WHEATON, Prison Evangelist.\n\nThe following is an extract from the letter I received in reply to the\nabove, from the general manager of the prison mines referred to:\n\n                                      ----, ----., ---- 22, 18--.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Madam: Your letter of recent date addressed to Gov. ---- was\n     referred to me. I regret exceedingly that you did not call at my\n     office on the occasion of your visit. While there is a great deal\n     of truth in your letter there is much that indicates that you\n     were innocently misled by statements of convicts. I know that you\n     must be a good woman, that your heart is in your work, and from\n     your wide experience, amply capable of advising and instructing\n     one like me. In undertaking the task of uniting to bring our\n     prison systems in this state to a humane basis, we have done more\n     than you can understand. Had you been familiar with the\n     conditions during the past thirty years under the lease system\n     you would realize that much has been accomplished even in the\n     short time we have been at work. I realize that more is yet to be\n     done. But \"Rome was not built in a day.\" The public has got to be\n     educated as well as individuals in immediate charge. I hope\n     therefore you will be patient, and will be only too glad to see\n     and confer with you should you again visit us here. In the\n     meantime I beseech your earnest sympathy and prayers for proper\n     guidance in our work, for I assure you that it is one that\n     requires such moral support as only such as you can fully\n     understand and appreciate. With great respect, I am,\n\n                                               Yours, etc., ----.\n\n\n                     PLEA FOR WOMEN CONVICTS.\n\nIn some instances women are made to do the farm work, work in brick\nyards, and to do other kinds of hard work. At one place in the south\nthe women cultivated a thousand acres of cotton, doing other farming\nand caring for the stockade, horses, mules, cows and hogs and having\nonly men to guard them. They were not allowed a woman matron to care\nfor them when they were sick or dying. I found them in rags and\ntatters and looking almost like wild beasts. I went to the governor of\nthat state and pleaded with him for my own sex. I begged him to\nprotect the poor women from such cruel treatment and brutal\npunishment. I asked him to have them taken in from the farm, where\nthey were clearing up the land and compelled to carry logs, to the\nstate prison at the Capitol which was nearly empty, and given proper\nwork and humane treatment.\n\n[Illustration: WOMAN CONVICT AT WORK.]\n\nOnce upon my knees before a governor I begged him to take the women\nfrom the stockades to the prison walls at the capital, and place them\nunder the care of a good matron and give them such work as women\nshould do. Also that they be properly clothed and fed and taught\nmorals and religion. I said, \"For the sake of young men which you now\nemploy to control and guard these women, won't you do this?\" (I had\nfound several young babes, born in this place.) He promised that he\nwould see that this was done.\n\nBut a year later I found these women still in the fields laboring and\nsuffering as before. I again went to the governor. He was now so\nchanged I hardly knew him. I said to him, \"Well, governor, I see the\naffairs of state wear heavily upon you. You look ten years older than\nyou did a year ago when I was here. Why did you not fulfill your\npromise to me about transferring those women from the stockades to the\nprison here at the capital? I promised that I would not make public\nthe condition in which I found them if you would look after them. You\npromised to have them treated better, but it is just the same now.\" He\nwas surprised at my knowledge of affairs and my firmness and tried to\nexcuse himself, and said that he had brought some of them away to the\nprison.\n\nUpon one occasion in later years, in a place I had visited for some\nyears, I found that an old colored woman had been tied to a log and\nseverely whipped on the bare flesh. The other women could not bear to\nsee her so cruelly treated, and silently cried unto God to take the\ncruel captain who had ordered her so punished out of the way. He did\nso; for when I arrived there in a few days he was struck with death\nand soon died. God did not allow him to compel the whipping of any\nmore women.\n\nI think that upon only one occasion was I ever treated other than\nkindly and with respect by any governor. In this case I insisted that\nthe women prisoners, especially, should be more humanely treated. The\ngovernor refused to take any action regarding the cruelties practiced\nbut said, \"Go to the Principal Keeper.\" I replied, \"I have just come\nfrom the Principal Keeper and he sent me to you, Governor. These\ncaptains are not permitted to strike one blow without a license from\nyou. It is by your permission that they whip and punish them.\" He was\nevidently annoyed to think that I so well understood the condition of\nthe prisons and their management. It was now election time and he was\nrunning for office for another term, and he dismissed me without\nfurther ado. Many like him are saying: \"Am I my brother's keeper?\"\nYes, you and I dear reader, and those in authority will surely have to\nanswer in the great day of reckoning, if we neglect to alleviate the\nsufferings of our fellowmen, when it is in our power to do so. There\nare many kind men in office who really desire better conditions of\naffairs, but are only servants of those who are higher in authority.\nTruly the penalty for crime must be paid, but give all a chance to\nreform and do right before God and man. Can we not let poor fallen\nhuman beings see that we do care for them? And that there is hope in\nChrist for them if they will repent and confess their sin to Him? Did\nHe not come \"to seek and to save that which was lost?\"\n\n\n                           BLOOD HOUNDS.\n\nI never will forget my feelings when first the howls of the\nbloodhounds sounded in my ears. I was in a stockade and there was a\nnoise such as I never heard before. I was on my knees praying and the\nwife of the captain came in saying, \"There has been an escape and the\nguards and dogs are after the convict.\" I just lifted my heart to the\nLord in prayer for the poor unfortunate, hunted man. I never stopped\nto think whether white or black; old or young; innocent or guilty; my\none cry was for the life and safety of my boy.\n\nMothers you know how you would feel were it your boy. Well, I got\ninitiated in that part of prison management that day. I have one\nthought above all others and that is to do God's will and obey Him and\nhelp all in anyway I can into a good life here and a home in Heaven at\nlast; poor heart-sick, home-sick and sin-sick souls. The very thought\nof the convict being helpless should appeal to our sympathy and God,\nthe Judge of all the universe, is going to call us to give an account\nfor our stewardship. Men and women must be governed but not by brute\nforce. We may overpower them, but do we conquer them? Have we won them\nto a better life and to good citizenship?\n\n[Illustration: CONVICTS GETTING OUT COAL.]\n\n\n                           COAL MINES.\n\nThe prison stockades vary in number. Sometimes there may be thirty or\nforty in one state, sometimes probably not half that many. It depends\nupon the number of prisoners in the penitentiary and into how many\nsections they are divided. When I was at Coal City, Ga., a number of\nyears ago, it was one of the most weird and desolate-looking places in\nwhich I had ever found a stockade located. There were three stockades\non the summit of the mountain, and one at its base. At the last place\nthe men were mining coal. When I first went there they used a small\ncar that would hold eight passengers. Then this was abandoned and we\nwere obliged to ride on the engine, as they carried only coal cars for\nshipping the coal that was mined by the prisoners. I was often in\ngreat danger of my clothes taking fire as the fire blazed out of the\nengine when the men were shoveling in the coal. The railroad\nzig-zagged up the mountain, and once, a sister and myself were obliged\nto ride on the coal-box, as the engine was packed with men and one\nwoman before we had arrived from the other train. I had to kneel down\nand hold onto the side of the coal box with both hands, and as the\nengine twisted and turned, I was in danger of falling, and it was\nhundreds of feet down to the foot of the precipices in places where\nour train crept along. All the way up the mountain I prayed God to\nprotect us. The train was run by prisoners, yet I always felt safe\nwith them.\n\n\n                         A TOUCHING INCIDENT.\n\n\"Lady, is you a preacher? Coz, if you is, I want you to come over to\nmy house 'long wid me and make a prayer, coz my mother is dead, and my\nfather is in prison over the stockade wall, and they are goin' to bury\nmy mother, and there ain't nobody to make a prayer, 'cept a colored\nwoman who was kind to my mother and loved her coz she was good. We\nchildren ain't got nobody to care for us.\"\n\nIt was just as I was leaving the railroad station near the Pratt Mine\nprison stockade in Alabama that I was accosted as above. The speaker\nwas a small white boy with hands and face so black with coal dust that\none could hardly tell that he was white. The sadness of that child's\nvoice touched my heart, and I said, \"Yes, surely I will be glad to go\nwith you, my child.\"\n\nThrough the mountain forest the little boy had come in search of some\none to make a prayer over the dead mother who, while she was living,\nhad taught her children about Jesus. I found the cabin by his guiding\nme along the mountain path through the underbrush. Such a sight as met\nmy eyes! A body covered with a ragged sheet, lying on a board held up\nby a couple of rickety stools. Nothing was in the hut to make it look\nlike home. Two old crones sat by the stump fire in the large\nfireplace, making free use of snuff and tobacco. It was a dirty little\none-roomed cabin. The funeral was to be at once, but the man who was\nmaking the rough box which was to serve as a coffin was so slow that\nwe finally waited for the funeral till the next day.\n\nI went to the prison camp and found the husband and father of the\nlittle boy, and obtained permission of the officials for him to attend\nthe funeral of his wife, providing that I should be responsible for\nhis return. Well, God understood it all and helped me there in that\nwild country; for that was when the prison stockades were not what\nthey are today. Conditions are much changed since I first went with a\ngospel message to those lonely prisoners and sin-bound souls.\n\n\n                  MY FIRST MEETING IN A PRISON CAMP.\n\nThat night I held my first service in a prison camp. The captain was\nloth to allow me the privilege, but the Lord touched his heart and he\nsaid that I might try. I had come a long distance on the train and had\ntaken little to eat for several days for those were days of much\nfasting and prayer. The call of God was upon me. I must preach the\nGospel to these men. So now, I had but one thing to do, to wait alone\nupon the Lord. I knelt before God in the little old wooden hut used as\nan office, and cried to the Lord, \"O Lord, help me! O Lord, help me!\nShow me how to hold a meeting here!\" Just after dark a guard came and\nsaid, \"We are ready for the meeting to begin. Come on.\" Imagine how I\nfelt when there alone before hundreds of men in rags and tatters, with\nhands and faces so black and grimy with coal dust (this being in a\nprison mining camp) that I could scarcely tell the white men from the\ncolored! The building was low and dirty, the men were seated on rude\nbenches, the guards standing with their guns in hand and many great\nstrong bloodhounds by their sides. The room was dimly lighted by three\nsmoky old lanterns hanging on the walls. I had conducted prayer\nmeetings in the church, led in temperance meetings, and labored with\nchurch people in the cities, and had been a Sabbath school teacher for\nyears; but I had never before faced a congregation such as I now saw\nbefore me. I knelt in silent prayer before stepping upon the rough old\nbox upon which I was to stand while I spoke. I arose and sang an\nold-time hymn, and again knelt and offered prayer. I told God all\nabout why I was there. I sang another hymn, but could go no farther.\nAll eyes were fixed upon me, and I asked, \"Is there one Christian\nhere? If so please raise your hand.\" I stood trembling and thought,\n\"Must I stand all alone here with no one to pray for me, or encourage\nme in my labor for the Master?\" At last one old colored man timidly\nraised his hand, followed by another, and then another. How I thank\nGod even now for this--after all these years of toil as a prison\nworker. Then, I was soon lost in the theme of Jesus and His love. I\nseemed to see those rough prison miners as dear children once more in\nthe old home at mother's knee at night-fall listening to her \"Now I\nlay me down to sleep.\" As I closed, seeing that the Lord had spoken to\nmany hearts by His Holy Spirit, I asked who would kneel with me in\nprayer and begin a new life. I think every prisoner bowed there before\nGod with the heavy prisoners' chains clanking as only such can do. The\nsound is inexpressibly sad to me even now after so many years of labor\nin prisons and the rattling of the great keys in the hand of the guard\nand the sound of the heavy iron doors as they open and close,\nreceiving \"some mother's boy,\" are still as affecting to me as in\nthose early days of my prison work.\n\nMany of these men on that night in humility and meekness sought and\nconfessed Christ as their Savior. I know not how many who knelt with\nme there, I shall meet in heaven; but I know that God has said His\nWord shall not return unto Him void. \"He that goeth forth and weepeth,\nbearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing,\nbringing his sheaves with him.\"\n\nAt the close of the service an officer informed me that his wife had\nprepared to entertain me. I gladly accepted of the kind offer and went\nto their humble home, greatly enjoying their hospitality, for I was\nmuch exhausted and very weary with the long journey, the anxiety and\nthe labor of the day. These remained my faithful friends while I knew\nthem. I thank God for those who open their homes to the children of\nthe Lord.\n\nThe next morning the lady said, \"I will let my little girl go with you\nto the funeral and to show you the way through the mountains to visit\nthe sick.\" So I went again to the miserable home of the poor little\nones who were left worse than orphans. How my heart was filled with\nsorrow, seeing the lonely helpless children, two boys and a beautiful\nlittle girl, with mother dead, and father in prison! I wondered what\ntheir future might be. A few mountaineers' wives had assembled, but\nthere were not enough men present to lift the box that contained the\ncorpse into the old coal wagon. After the short, sad services, with my\nassistance as a pall bearer the crude coffin was lifted into the\nwagon, and I helped to steady it as we traveled over the rough\nmountain road to the cemetery. I had double duty caring for this and\nmaking sure that the husband and father did not attempt to escape; for\nyou know liberty is sweet. The Lord of hosts must have kept him true\nto his promise, and I must say that I can always trust the poor\nprisoners not to betray the confidence I place in them. At the grave I\nsang the old hymn. \"I would not live always\" and we laid the faithful\nwife and mother away to rest until the trumpet shall call the dead to\nrise.\n\nWhat was the cause of the sad plight of this family? Sin. The saloon!\nThere had been a saloon fight, and some one was killed. Some one did\nthe deed. Oh, God! What a reckoning there will be in the end for those\nwho vote to license the saloon, as well as they who dispense the rum,\nGod will open the books and all shall be judged out of the things that\nare written therein. \"Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord\nof hosts.\" This faithful wife and mother had spent all her living in\nan attempt to secure the liberty of her husband. But failing in this,\nshe had come with her children to live in that dreary place, hoping to\nbe able to lead him to a better life, finally dying in want, and of a\nbroken heart. After the funeral I pleaded with the little girl to go\nwith me. But she true to her trust, true to her dead mother's loyalty,\nsaid, \"Never will I leave my poor father with no one to care for him.\nMother never would, I never will. I will go to see him and tell him of\nJesus.\"\n\nWearied with toil and the journeying from place to place to visit the\nsick to whom the little girl from the camp had guided me, I returned\nin the evening with her to her home and then to the camp. Thinking to\nlie down and take some rest, and kneeling to pray, I was impressed\nthat I must visit the other stockade some two or three miles away. I\nknew it was the voice of God and said, \"Yes.\" The lady strongly\npleading that I must not go, that it was dangerous, said I could not\ngo alone, that I would lose my way, etc. The husband also said one's\nlife was in danger, that several men were found dead in those\nmountains and no one knew who killed them, etc., and pleaded with me\nnot to go. But I said, \"If God sends me, He will see that I am not\nharmed. He will not forsake me.\" Soon I started on my way, and\npresently met the two little boys whose mother had just been buried. I\nasked if one of them would not show me the way to the other camp, and\nthe older one kindly did so. With my little guide we hurried down that\nrough mountain side, we being compelled to carry stones to build a\nbridge across a stream of water, and finally came within sight of the\ncamp. Upon insisting that God had sent me, and that I had held\nservices in the other camp, the captain (overseer) invited me into his\nhome. I had not expected such kindness, but thanking the Lord I\naccepted it as from Him. They kindly brought us food, but I would not\neat, and gave it all to the little boy who was so hungry, and praying\nfor him he started homeward. Here also we had a wonderful meeting. Men\nwith broken hearts wept with longing for a mother's sympathy and a\nSavior's love. Some came to Christ and were saved, and I believe that\nI shall meet some of them in the great home gathering bye and bye in\nheaven.\n\nEarly the following morning, I was told that the engine which was to\ntake me on my way was ready to start with its train of coal cars for\nthe station some ten miles distant; but that I would have time to\nvisit the hospital department where many were lying sick. I hurried\nthrough the prison yard, filled with hogs and bloodhounds, to the\nhospital, where I sang a song and prayed. I was turning to go when a\nguard came running and said, \"The whole train is waiting for you,\nhurry up.\" As I was hurrying out a door opened and a woman called, \"Do\ncome and see my son, he is dying. Do come and pray for him.\" I ran in\nsaying, \"The train may go; I dare not refuse the request.\" I grasped\nthe dying boy's hand firmly and said, \"Take hold on God as I take hold\nof your hand. He will not forsake you. He will save you; look and\nlive.\" I offered a short prayer and ran down to the engine, which\nstill waited. There was something seeming so dismal in its sound in\nthose lonely regions. I had to ride on the engine, as there was\nnothing but coal flats on this train. I was helped on and we were off.\nThe sun was just rising over the mountain and the heavy fog was\nbeginning to rise, and oh, such a blessing I received as we sped along\nthe winding way! I shall never forget the gloomy sight I left behind\nme there. The poor prison-bound men marching out to the mines with\ntheir lanterns on their caps and with their picks and shovels. They\nnever seemed so dear to me, and I began to see more clearly than ever\nthat God had a special work for me to do. I saw the value of a soul\nbought with the precious blood of Christ. I saw, too, the need of\nfully consecrated Christian workers. As we wound around the mountain\nside I knew I had been obedient to my God, and His Spirit bore witness\nwith my spirit that He accepted my weak efforts.\n\n\n                      DIFFICULTIES OVERCOME.\n\nI was not always kindly received as mentioned in some instances. We\nare not carried to heaven upon flowery beds of ease. I have many times\nbeen refused the privilege even of singing a hymn in a prison. My\nsinging has often been blessed as a means of touching hearts, and\nthrough it souls have been converted and are still true to God. I went\nto visit another prison mining camp or stockade, in a very lonely\nregion where few people lived. I arrived upon a dark, gloomy night;\nthere was no depot and not a house near. There I was alone, yet not\nalone, for God was with me. A young mulatto man who proved to be an\nex-convict, had come to the train with a lantern, and I asked him to\nkindly show me the way to the home of the captain of the camp. I found\nthe officer had gone in search of a prisoner who had made his escape,\nand his wife refused to take any one in in her husband's absence. She\nsaid I should go to another officer some distance away. Ascending the\nsteps to the large house my heart sank within me, for I felt that I\nshould be turned away again in the night. The officer himself came to\nthe door to answer my call. Telling him my mission, I asked to stay\nwith them till morning. His wife would not consent to entertain me,\nand I answered, \"Where shall I go? I am alone, and a Christian woman\nsent of God to help people in prison to a better life.\" He replied,\n\"There's a boarding house a mile away down the mountain,\" and the door\nwas shut. I asked my guide, \"Is there not one Christian here in these\nmountains?\" He said, \"Only one, a poor old colored man, that's been in\nprison, and he lives up the mountain with his daughter, a young\nwoman.\" Crying as I went along holding to the brush with one hand, we\nfinally reached the hut at the top of the mountain. I told the young\nwoman my story and asked if I might stay with her for the night. She\nanswered, \"No, my father is away and I cannot take in a stranger\nwithout his consent.\" \"Then I must stay out on the mountain alone all\nnight.\" She seemed sorry for me, and said I should wait till her\nfather came. I had not to wait long till he came, and kindly consented\nfor me to stay. I was weary and hungry from my long journey. I saw the\nold colored man open the basket he had brought home with him. It\ncontained some cold food given him where he was employed. He asked me\nto share his lunch, but I refused, as I believed he needed all he had.\n\nHow thankful I was for shelter in that poor hut that night, though\nsleeping by my side was that poor unfortunate colored girl with a babe\nin her arms that cried all the night. There were cracks in the hut\nthrough which you could see the stars. What a change the Lord had\nwrought in the once proud woman that I had been! I remembered that\nJesus said, \"Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but\nthe Son of man hath not where to lay his head.\" And \"The disciple is\nnot above his master.\" I spent the night in prayer and God heard my\ncries for the poor convicts who were cruelly starved and beaten by the\ndrunken guards and captain who seemed to bitterly hate all who were so\nhelplessly bound under them. This is a strong statement but I will\nmeet it at the Judgment.\n\nIn the morning one woman who had turned me from her door sent to find\nout what had become of me. She said she would give the young woman who\nhad sheltered me a present for not leaving me out on the mountain\nalone. I had prayed earnestly that God would convict her for her lack\nof hospitality. Upon going to the officer to learn when I could have\na meeting with the prisoners, he unkindly turned me away saying that I\nshould _never_ have a meeting there, and that I might as well go.\n\nWell, I did go; traveling eighty miles back to the capital,\nMontgomery, Alabama, to see the Governor. I knew the Lord had sent me,\nand how could I meet Him at the Judgment and tell Him I had failed? I\nknew, too, that Satan had hindered. I asked for the Governor but was\ntold that the President of the Board of Prison Inspectors was the\nproper person for me to see about the matter. He was sent for and soon\ncame. He was a very kind old gentleman and sat down and asked me what\nI wished. When I had related the facts he said, \"Who dare refuse you\nholding meetings in that prison camp? You go back there and hold your\nmeeting. I'll write him a letter and let him hear from me.\" I said,\n\"But he will say he did not receive your letter.\" He then said he\nwould write a letter for me to present to him. But, how should I get\nback to the camp? After selling my trunk and such articles of clothing\nas I could spare, I yet did not have enough money to pay railway fare.\n\n\n                          MY FIRST FREE PASS.\n\nTrusting the Lord to in some way provide means for me to get back to\nthe camp, I went to the janitress of the depot, an intelligent\nmulatto, and told her of my need, as she had previously assisted me in\nsecuring half-fare rates on the railroad, she having known the\nofficials since their childhood. She insisted that I should go to the\noffice of the general manager of the L. & N. R. R. and ask for a\nhalf-fare rate to the prison camp at New Castle, Ala. Oh, how I\ndreaded to go to that office! But tremblingly and prayerfully I went,\nand presenting to him the letter which I was to carry with me to the\ncamp, I told him my desires. Upon reading this letter he handed me\nwhat I supposed was a half-fare permit. I humbly thanked him and\nreturned to my lodging. After making preparation to start early in the\nmorning on my journey, before retiring for the night I knelt by my\nbedside to thank God for the permit. Thinking I would see just how it\nread before I prayed, I took it up and began reading, \"Pass Mrs.\n_Elizabeth R. Wheaton_ From _Montgomery_ to _Birmingham, Ala., Prison,\nMissionary_.\" What! Did my eyes deceive me, or was it a mistake. No.\nIt was a free pass, and the following note was enclosed to the\nSuperintendent at the other end of the route regarding a return pass\nif I should ask for it:\n\n                            Louisville & Nashville Railroad Co.,\n                                 Montgomery, Ala., Jan. 15, 1885.\n\n     L. Hage, Esq., Supt., Birmingham, Ala.\n\n     Dear Sir: This lady, Mrs. Elizabeth Wheaton, bears credentials\n     showing her to be a prison missionary. Any courtesy you may\n     extend to her, in the way of pass, will be properly applied.\n\n                                               Yours truly,\n                                             M. S. BELKNAP, Supt.\n\nOh, how I did thank God for this manifestation of His goodness to\nme--doing above that which I could ask or think! Mr. Belknap, that\nkind R. R. officer, has been dead many years, and perhaps is forgotten\nby some who knew him better than I, but I shall never forget his\nunexpected kindness to me. Since then, through the goodness of God and\nthe favor and confidence of the railroad officials, I have received\ntransportation throughout the country, to carry the Gospel of Jesus to\nmen and women of every class.\n\nUpon my return to the prison camp I asked for the officer and told him\nI had come to hold meeting for the prisoners. I suppose he had\nreceived word from the Governor's office, as he so readily consented,\nasking at what hour I would like to have the service. I thought best\nto wait till the following day (Sunday) for the services, that I might\nhave sufficient time for my work. The Lord came in mighty power that\nSabbath day as I sang the old time hymns, and asked God to forgive and\nhelp those precious souls. The Spirit gave me utterance and carried\nthe truth to the hearts of the hearers. Sobs and groans were heard\nfrom men in tears who sought forgiveness and gave God their hearts. At\nthe close I took each one by the hand and exhorted them to be faithful\nto God. I afterwards visited the sick and talked and prayed with them,\nexhorting them to seek a home in heaven where sin can never come, and\nwhere God wipes away all tears. How true the words,\n\n    \"Down in the human heart, crushed by the tempter,\n      Feelings lie buried that grace can restore;\n    Touched by a loving heart, wakened by kindness,\n      Chords that were broken will vibrate once more.\"\n\nOne Sunday morning I was going to a prison camp to hold meeting. There\nwas no way to get there excepting to walk through the deep mud. There\nwere a couple of boys going towards the stockade leading an old mule.\nI said, \"O, boys, CAN'T I RIDE THAT MULE?\" \"Certainly,\" they said. It\nwas with difficulty that I mounted the novel conveyance, and that I\nremained on the mule's back. For some reason, I was filled with\napprehension. I had an impression that there was danger. I asked the\nboys if they would not lead the animal, but they kept a good distance\nfrom it, saying that they wanted to keep out of the mud.\n\nWhen we reached the camp and the officers came out and helped me to\ndismount, they looked at me in great astonishment, and one of them\nsaid, \"What a narrow escape you have made! I only wonder that you got\nhere alive. It is a wonder that old mule didn't kill you. I wonder\nthat the boys let you take it!\" I learned that the animal was so\nutterly uncontrollable and vicious that they could only use him on a\ndump cart to carry the prisoners' dinner or something of the sort and\nthen he would sometimes kick the cart all to pieces.\n\nI raised my heart in thanksgiving to God, knowing that He who stopped\nthe lion's mouth and held the flames of the fiery furnace had in some\nway kept this ugly creature from doing me any harm and saved my life.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XII.\n\n            Work in Stockades and Prison Camps--Continued.\n\n\nI once had a novel experience in a prison lumber camp. I was being\nentertained at the home of the superintendent of the camp and was to\nhold service with the prisoners at twilight. The superintendent came\nto the parlor and asked if I was ready for the service. We had not far\nto go, but I was unable to walk the distance; so a carriage, drawn by\nsome of the prisoners, had been brought to the gate for me. I answered\nthat I was ready, but as I was waiting he again asked if I was ready\nand why I was waiting. I replied that I was waiting for the horses. He\nanswered, \"You come on, the horses will be all right.\" I had learned\nto obey the officers, so followed on down through the beautiful yard\nof flowers and reluctantly stepped into the carriage. Instantly four\nprisoners took hold of the carriage and we were off. The men seemed\nglad to assist me and I was so thankful to them. God bless them! I do\nnot think a queen with all her body-guard could have felt more secure\nor have been more appreciated, than I, there surrounded by my dear\nprison boys. After the service I was conveyed in the same manner back\nto the home of the superintendent.\n\nAt another time, desiring to visit a certain prison camp, I found\nthere was no way to reach it but to ride on a flat car with the men\ngoing from their work. I was glad to go with them and have a chance to\nspeak a word of kindness and sing some hymns that might cheer them on\nthe way.\n\nIn the pineries of Florida the stockade prisoners are engaged in\ntaking the sap from the pine trees. The camps are located some miles\napart, and in going from one to another the forests are so dense that\nwe were compelled to go in a two-wheeled donkey-cart. We encountered\ngreat dangers, there being many poisonous reptiles and alligators in\nthe lakes and rivers which we had to pass.\n\n\n                   ASSISTING A COLORED MINISTER.\n\nI arrived one Sunday morning at a stockade where hundreds of men and\nsome women were kept. I went to the keeper, or captain, as he was\ncalled, and asked for the privilege of holding a gospel service with\nthe prisoners under his charge. He not only refused me, but was\nabusive, cursing me and ordering me away. Of course I was much\ngrieved, as I felt the Lord had sent me there to preach the gospel. I\nwas greatly surprised that an official should use such language to a\nlady, and without provocation. Weeping, I asked if I might sing for\nthe women prisoners. Again, with oaths, he refused me. But Brother\nFrank Joseph, a colored preacher who knew me, was there to hold\nreligious services by permission of the governor, and he came and\ninvited me to assist him. Of course the captain could say nothing\nagainst it and I went with him. But when he asked me to conduct the\nservice I could not at the first sing, preach or pray for weeping, but\nI told him I would pray God to give them a kinder officer for I knew\nthe one they had was a cruel man. God used even my weakness and my\ntears to touch their hearts and we had a blessed meeting.\n\nAfter service I had a chance to talk to the women prisoners. We wept\ntogether and oh how thankful they were that there was one woman who\nwould try to help them and make their burdens lighter. They told me\nhow terribly they were treated and said they would be beaten if the\ncaptain knew of their telling me of it. How glad I was to carry the\nmessage of Jesus' love to them in their distress. Before I left they\nsaid they wished they had something to give me, and some gave small\ntokens of their regards. It was all they had to give and when they\nurged me I accepted them as from the Lord, feeling that He would in\nsome way reward them and bless their offering as He did the widow's\nmite.\n\n\n                         THROUGH DANGER ALONE.\n\nDesiring to reach another stockade some miles distant I asked the\ncaptain if he could not supply me with conveyance and a guide, but he\nrefused. I determined, however, to find the other prison and started\non foot alone. The prison women told me that it was very dangerous\nbecause of fierce dogs and cross cattle in the mountains; but feeling\nthat God wanted me to go I knew no such thing as fail. After walking\nsome distance I sank down with exhaustion under a big tree and wept\nout my heart to God for guidance, protection and success. I arose\nfeeling strengthened and comforted and soon came to a farm house and\nasked a young man who stood in the garden if he could direct me to the\nprison camp. \"Yes, come in, lady, you look so tired and faint and my\nmother will give you something to eat and we will show you the way,\"\nwas the kind reply I received. I stopped and rested a while but would\nneither eat nor drink as I had given myself to fasting and prayer that\nmy way might be opened for services in the camp to which I was going.\nAfter a long walk we found the stockade and knowing the young man who\nwas with me, the officers gave their consent for me to hold a service.\nAfter I had been singing and talking to the prisoners a while suddenly\nmy strength failed me. I had only time to say, \"Will you sing?\" Then\nI saw and heard nothing more. I HAD FALLEN PROSTRATE among those\nchained prisoners. When I came to myself I heard singing from inside\nthe walls, such singing as could only come from truly broken-hearted,\nrepentant souls. I had been carried outside and the poor prison women\nwere caring for me. A good old colored sister was holding me close to\nher and pleading with God to restore me. I heard her say, \"She's a\nwoman like we is--and she's given her life for us.\" They were doing\nall they knew and were crying around me. I said, \"Please carry me back\ninto the prison.\" When they had done so I asked, \"How many of you\nprisoners will kneel with me in prayer and give your hearts to God,\ntake Him as your Savior and start today for heaven? God loves you,\nJesus died for you! And if you will come to Him and confess your sins\nHe will save you.\" Every one knelt before God, and many with prayers\nand broken sobs cried out their hearts to Him who is not willing that\nany should perish, but that all should have eternal life. I expect to\nmeet many of them in heaven; for He is able to save to the uttermost\nall that will come unto God by Him--and able also to keep them from\nfalling.\n\nThe following day, traveling from this prison to another stockade,\nsitting near me in the car was an aged gentleman who on seeing my\nBible asked me where I was going. When I had told him, he asked me the\nnature of my work and how the prisoners were treated in these places;\nalso how I was received by the officials of the prisons generally.\nThinking to only entertain a kind old country gentleman, I told him\nmany things which I probably should not have been so free to mention\nhad I known who he was. He asked me many questions about the\nstockades. I told him that I had never been so cruelly treated as at\na camp on the previous day. \"Where,\" he inquired, \"Who did such a\nthing?\" In answer to his inquiry I told him who it was. Little did I\nknow that this was God's way of revealing sin.\n\n\n                       A MEETING AT DAY DAWN.\n\nReaching the small station at the foot of the mountain; we had to take\na box car only large enough for six persons. The old gentleman was one\nof the passengers also. Going to the house of the captain at the top\nof the mountain (such a lonely place), he thought it impossible to\nhave a meeting with the men, as he said they were so wicked and\nunruly, etc., but finally said I might do so at day-break the next\nmorning. He was very careful, saying, \"These men are so wicked and\ncruel that never could a woman stand before them.\" I wept and prayed\nmost of the night and cried, \"Oh God, can you let me fail now?\" In\nthose early years of my labor I traveled much alone but later I\nusually had a sister accompany me, or sometimes a sister and her\nhusband.\n\nOut in the prison yard at break of day I found hundreds of men all\nready to go down into the coal mines. I wondered how to gain their\nattention and make them all hear my voice. I asked to have the men\ndrawn closer together, as they stood in the prison yard. This being\ndone, I sang a hymn. Oh how I do praise God for the gift of song! I\nforgot my weird surroundings and the rough appearance of the men and\ntheir dangerous looks. I saw them as little boys in the old home far\naway and then as human souls, hurrying into the presence of God and I\nfelt that I stood between them and the Judgment. Conceive, if you can,\nhow this company must have looked to me, bound in companies of perhaps\nfifty in a \"gang,\" to a long strong chain to which was fastened a\nnumber of shorter chains; these short chains being fastened to the\nmen's ankles.\n\nGod enabled me to deliver His message and eternity alone will reveal\nthe results of the seed scattered there that morning. After shaking\nhands with the men I was introduced to the old gentleman whom I had\nmet on the train the day before. To my surprise he proved to be the\nPresident of the Board of Prison Inspectors of the state. I saw him no\nmore after that time, but a year later I visited the prison of which I\nhad told him. I saw at the depot a young colored man nicely dressed,\nbut I knew by his clothes that he was one of the prison boys. He had\ncome to get the morning paper for the warden. I walked with him to the\nprison, and on the way asked him how they all were at the camp. \"All\nso nicely, thank you,\" he replied. \"Who is your captain now?\" I asked.\n\"Has there been any change since I was here last year?\" \"O yes, ma'am,\nsoon after you was here ma'am, just as soon as Massa (meaning the\nPresident of the Board) could find a good man to take de place ob de\nole captun what treated de men so bad and 'bused you so, he sent him\naway.\" \"Oh, is that so?\" I said. \"Yes, an' we's got a good time now to\nwhat we had befo' God sent you heah ma'am. He certainly did send you\nheah ma'am dat time.\" So I had only suffered these indignities that\nthese abused ones might have better officers and treatment. The new\ncaptain received me very kindly and giving me a seat said my breakfast\nwould be ready as soon as the prison women could prepare it for me.\nWell, surely the Lord had been at work. Such a change all around! We\nhad a grand meeting and much good was accomplished, the captain\nfurnished a buggy to take me to the next camp and bring me back to the\ndepot.\n\n\n                     HELPING TO BURY A PRISONER.\n\nAfter visiting the hospital department of a stockade where I had never\nbeen before, I saw the guards nailing up a long, apparently heavy,\nbox. I said to them, \"What have you in that box?\" One replied, \"A\nman--a dead man.\" Soon after I heard an officer say to a guard, \"Send\nfive prisoners to go with me to bury that box.\" I arose from where I\nhad been praying, and hurried out and asked permission to accompany\nthe men with the box, but was refused--the officer saying they had no\nguard to spare to assist me up the mountain side. \"Oh, just please let\nme go,\" I said. \"I do not need any one to help me to climb the\nmountain. Please, won't you let me go?\" He then consented, and I did\nnot wait for either bonnet or help; but with my shawl over my head I\nhurried out after the men bearing the corpse. On we went up the\nmountain side, until we came to a very steep place, and the poor weak\nprisoners began to tremble under the heavy burden, along in front of\nthe guard who had his gun in hand. I knew if one should fall, the\nguard might suppose he was trying to escape from him, and fire at him\nand kill him.\n\nI took up a stick in my left hand to steady myself and placing my\nright arm under the end of the box added my strength to that of the\ntired men. When we reached the summit of the mountain we found the\ngrave already dug, but it was much too short for the box. I was almost\nexhausted and came near falling. The grave being too short, they were\ngoing to leave the corpse until morning and then return and bury it.\nBut I said, \"Boys, you dig the grave longer and I will sing for you\nwhile you work.\" I sang an old time hymn, and they lowered the box, by\npounding and jumping upon it and then hurriedly shoveled in the dirt.\nThen I said, \"Let us pray.\" And there in that dreary place I prayed\nfor the poor men who had performed this sad rite and for the guard. I\nforgot my surroundings. I thought only of \"SOME MOTHER'S BOY,\" who\nperhaps died with a broken heart without a mother's care, now lying in\nan unknown grave far away from home. Perhaps she had prayed for him\nand God had sent me to pray over the lonely grave. There we left him\nwhere all his mistakes should be forgotten. He may have sought and\nfound pardon in God. Who can tell? The stars were now shining and the\nstillness filled me with awe. The men hurried down the mountain side\nto the prison, leaving me behind in the dim starlight. I found my way\nto the stockade, but found the door locked and with great difficulty I\nmade them hear me and was admitted. At about nine o'clock the\nprisoners were brought together to have a meeting. The guard\nridiculed. The prisoners wondered at seeing a woman preaching. How I\ntrembled! Oh, for some one to share my burden! I asked, \"Is there one\nChristian here among you prisoners?\" as I shook hands with them and\nsome of them pointing out an old colored woman, said, \"She's a\nChristian.\" I clasped her hand, hardened by work, and said, \"Will you\npray for me, sister?\" \"Yes,\" she said, \"Yes, I will, honey.\"\n\nGod was there to touch and tender those hearts. They were unused to\nmeetings of this character, and perhaps had never heard of a woman\npreaching. I well knew that unless God undertook for me the meeting\nwould be a failure. There seemed to be no way to reach these hard\nhearts. The men and women stared at me. Suddenly I thought of the\ngreat danger I was in, and the risk I had to run in getting back to\nthe village that night. I saw the head of a young prison boy droop\nover on a man's shoulder, too sleepy to listen longer. Then I heard\nand saw no more, but fell unconscious to the floor. The weariness from\nthe day's labor proved too much for my strength. But God used my\nweakness to reach these hearts and when I regained consciousness, men\nand women with tears, sobs and prayers, were crying to God for mercy\nand forgiveness--pleading for help to be better men and women. I hope\nI shall meet many of them in heaven \"when the roll is called up\nyonder\" for they truly seemed to bring forth fruit meet for\nrepentance.\n\nThe following day was spent among the sick and dying in the village. I\nhad asked the privilege in the morning to go with the train men to the\nprison pest house where the sick prisoners were, but was refused by\nthe train crew, some of them ridiculing me and my work. I had only\nkindly asked them the privilege, and then exhorted them to come to\nChrist. I then told them I feared the next message would be judgment\nfrom God. God bless the railroad men if some of them do make mistakes!\nMy heart goes out for them as they are always in much danger. I make\nit a rule of my life to always pray for every train on which I travel\nwith its crew and passengers. And hitherto God has been my help. Bless\nHis holy name!\n\n\n                      WRECK OF A COAL TRAIN.\n\nWhen I had returned to the boarding house in the evening I lay down to\nrest. Many striking things occurred in this place. As I lay resting,\ndishes were rattling and children were crying in adjoining rooms, my\nroom door leading into the open hall was standing open, and in came a\ndrove of little pigs. I looked up to see what it was, and one had\nwalked up to the fireplace where was burning a low fire, and stood\nwarming its nose. But they soon grew tired of indoor life and all\nquickly scampered out as they had come in. They had seemed as much at\nhome there as myself. Amid this confusion I fell asleep. How long I\nslept I do not know. I was awakened by heart-rending cries from men\nand women. I sprang up and throwing a shawl over my head, I ran out in\nthe rain to see what I could do to help, for I knew some one was in\ngreat agony. What I saw I shall never forget. The coal train and its\ncrew that had gone out in the morning had come in. THE ENGINE WAS\nDITCHED in a terrible manner and men were crushed in the wreck. Women\nwere screaming as they ran to see if their loved ones were among the\nvictims. I met the same men I had warned in the morning carrying on a\nboard the fireman badly cut and bruised. I said, \"Men, I gave you the\nwarning this morning. You rejected my counsel and I thought judgment\nwould come, but I little thought it would come so soon.\" They carried\nthe wounded man to an old baggage car. People were so excited they did\nnot know what to do. Here I was to learn a lesson in surgery. I found\nan old pail and brought some water. Some bystanders gave me their\nhandkerchiefs and I proceeded to wash the blood from the poor wounded\nhead and limb, which was much crushed, and helped the doctor to bind\nup the wounds. Soon there came a call for help from the scene of the\ndisaster. A messenger came running, saying, \"Come quick! there is a\nman dying whom we found under the engine.\" It was very dark, but I\nhurried along through the mud and rain after the doctor to the scene\nof suffering. They had carried him into the nearest hut, and he was\nlying upon the floor unconscious. Kneeling beside him I raised his\nhead upon my hand. Consciousness returned. I cried, \"Jesus can save\nyou even now; He loves you. He will forgive you now, only believe on\nHim.\" He replied, \"I do believe He does save me just now.\" Glory to\nGod! He is a present help in time of need; a friend that sticketh\ncloser than a brother. Dear reader, it is better to be saved before\nthe crash comes. The man was suffering terribly. The women, thinking\nthey must do something, had poured turpentine into the wounds thinking\nit was camphor. We washed the wounds and I assisted the physician in\nsetting the broken limbs. God wonderfully helped me there to practice\nwhat I preached, and I found what it means to love my neighbor as\nmyself. These railroad men were my neighbors, and they were suffering\nand in a dying condition. One of the poor men cried piteously for his\nmother. I traveled on the train on which one of the wounded men was\ntaken to the city where his mother lived and helped to care for him on\nthe way. We were delayed at that camp for two days. I will never\nforget those days of service and suffering.\n\n\n                       THE SUGAR CAMPS.\n\nAt one time, I went into the Sugar Refining Stockades in Texas.\nLeaving the train, we had to walk a long distance to the first camp.\nThe superintendent was angry at us for coming, and ordered us to go to\nthe next camp. He said there were women at the other stockade and that\nhe would not let us have any meeting, any way, with his men. We asked\nhim if he would please send a boy to carry our luggage, and he\nrefused, so we started on alone, to walk a long way. When we arrived\nat the second camp we found only one guard and a couple of prisoners\nworking, and no women within miles. When the guard saw the situation,\nhe seemed sorry for us, and we were allowed to rest and wait until\nthe return of the prisoners, who were at work at a distance on\nrailroad repairs. In the meantime he sent a man to another stockade\nsome miles away, and the captain's wife there agreed to entertain us,\nfor which we were thankful. We had a meeting after the men came to\ncamp, and the guards came to us and said that the women at the camp\nmentioned before had sent word that they would not keep us over night.\nWhat _could_ we do? Finally I said, \"Can you take us to the depot?\"\nThey answered that they had no conveyance but AN OLD MULE AND A CART.\nI said, \"That is all right.\" So they got the mule and cart and helped\nus in, and handed us our luggage. Then they sent a colored boy to go\nbefore the mule with a lantern, and another followed after. In this\nway we went on until we reached the little country depot, which was\nall dark. One of the prisoners, who went with us, lighted the lantern\ninside, and we called to the ticket agent, who had retired, asking him\nto please check our luggage to San Antonio. This he refused to do, so\nI said, \"We are Christian women and will give you almost any price, if\nyour wife will allow us to stay with her until morning.\" He was angry,\nstill refusing to get up to check our luggage. He said he was not paid\nfor night work. We could not have gotten on the car had it not been\nfor a gentleman, going on the same train, who had his servant help us.\nWe went to San Antonio before we could get a place to rest and it was\nthen morning, but God blessed us in holding services in the prison\nthere that day. I never reported the agent who was so rude to us, as I\nwas sorry for him, for I was told he was a cripple, and I thought he\nneeded his work to provide for his family.\n\n\n                        IN A GAMBLING SALOON.\n\nFrom Knoxville, Tenn., I went one night to the coal mine region. I\nasked the landlord at the hotel for some one to show me a way to the\nstockade some distance, and he sent his chore boy with me. We had a\nlong walk, and returned after meeting at night. It was late and as we\ncame down the mountain side I saw a light at a little distance, and I\nsaid, \"Where is that light?\" He said, \"That is the wickedest place;\nthey kill people there.\" Without waiting to consider the danger I\nmight be in, I said, \"Wait here for me,\" and I hastened up the valley\nand into the place, which I found to be a gambling saloon. Then,\nwithout waiting, I poured out to them the Gospel message which burned\nin my heart, I fell on my knees and prayed to God to save them from\nthe destruction to which they were going. Then I rushed out into the\ndarkness again, and found the boy waiting with the lantern and we went\non our way. I was thoroughly alarmed next day when I realized the risk\nI had taken in going into such a place, but God has wrought mightily\nfor me all these years and preserved me from harm. As I write I feel\nnear home and heaven. Jesus is there. Soon I shall be with Him.\n\n\n                          CONDITION OF CONVICTS.\n\nI wish that some who whine so much in church about taking up the cross\ncould see the inside of those stockades as I saw them--see the\nsuffering that existed, the sorrowful, heart-broken prisoners with no\nray of hope, no one to care about them; everything poor, scarcely\nenough to keep them alive; the poorest of places to sleep; men\nfastened to a large post in the middle of the stockade by a heavy\nchain, compelled to wear their clothing till it would decay on them,\noften so ragged that they could not hide their nakedness, and guarded\nby bloodhounds and armed men. It was not proper under other\ncircumstances for a woman to see men in such conditions, but they had\nsouls to be saved or lost, and the Lord had commissioned me to go to\nthese men and tell them that Jesus loved them and wanted to save and\ndeliver them from the power of the devil who got them into such\nplaces.\n\n\n                             UNJUSTLY CONDEMNED.\n\nJudges often sentence men and women to years of hard labor in prison\nfor the slightest offenses. An old colored man employed in a store\ntook a box of cigars, but regretting the act, returned them confessing\nhis wrong, and asked forgiveness. He was arrested and sentenced to\ntwenty-five years in the stockade; one year for each cigar. Another\ncolored man was found on the street at night carrying five ears of\ncorn. He was sentenced to prison for five years. He with others was\nworking where the earth caved in and killed him. Who will answer in\nthe day of Judgment for that man's life and death? Yes, and his soul?\nWere I to here relate some things I know to be true, awful in the\nextreme, they would not be believed. Let us have the laws of God\nenforced. Let those who may be anxious to punish wrong and have men\ncondemned upon circumstantial evidence, look into their own hearts and\nlives and see if they have been free from condemnation. I do not want\nto condemn judges nor jurymen, for they are not all to blame. A man or\nwoman should never be condemned until known to be guilty. People are\noften prejudiced, and without proper investigation many are condemned\nto punishment for crimes of which they are innocent. The cries of such\nare come up before the Lord and He will hear and answer prayer. At one\ntime there were forty stockades in one state and about four thousand\nprisoners in one state. Let us help those that are down.\n\nIn many stockades I found men and women living together promiscuously\nand children being born in the camp. The poor creatures were subjected\nto all kinds of abuse and suffering, the women in great need of better\nquarters, better food, and care. Ofttimes they were afraid for their\nvery lives. Many were killed outright; in one place where they were\nfar out in the coal mines many were brutally whipped and ill-treated.\nI went to the Lord in prayer, and then to the state authorities and\nthe Governor went out with men and opened the graves of many, who had\ndied in camps. One of the officers was imprisoned for ten years;\nanother made his escape; others were dealt with more or less severely.\nI had been out there myself, getting on the engine to ride out to the\nstockade, and requested to see the prisoners after their day's work\nwas done, and as they came up from the mines they were so ragged that\nI was compelled to turn my back as they passed. I got permission to\nhold a Gospel meeting. After it was over, I requested the captain to\nlet one of his men take us to the next house, a distance of a mile or\nmore from the camp. When we knocked asking permission to stay for the\nnight, and telling who we were, the woman of the house said, \"You had\nbetter go and preach to those prison guards, who are killing off the\npoor prisoners.\" She said she could not stand it to hear such awful\ncries as reached her ears even at that distance from the stockade. She\ntold the guard just what she thought of the brutality shown the\nprisoners and convicts. He said he was not to blame. He seemed to be a\nkind young man.\n\nIn one place I found one old colored man who was condemned to death.\nHe was filthy and dirty and had nothing to lie on but a heap of straw;\nhe was hungry and his cell was dark and damp. My heart ached to see\nhim so shamefully abused. Even condemned men have rights and they\nshould be respected; it is enough for them to know that they are to\ndie a horrible death, without having all kinds of abuse heaped upon\nthem; yet I have seen this in many prisons. How is it that friends are\nso often denied the privilege of seeing those that are under death\nsentence or those who are sick and dying? Let the truth be told and\nlet there be some one to investigate these things. I believe that\nthose who are most against prisoners, are those who are not familiar\nwith the conditions. Let good discipline be maintained, but let\nprisoners never be brutally treated, simply because they are powerless\nto help themselves. I find many things going on that are not right,\nbut I have never made complaint to the governors of the states, unless\ncompelled to do so, because of cases of extreme cruelty.\n\n\n                            NEED OF REFORM.\n\nThere is great need of reformation in the management of prisons, and\nespecially in the prison lease system and management of women\nprisoners in the south. Oh, the shocking sights that have greeted me\non almost every hand! There is nothing more heart-rending to me than\nthe terrible, brutal treatment of helpless humanity. These prisoners\nare entirely at the mercy of officers who are oftentimes void of\nfeeling, coarse and vulgar in the extreme. To get positions and make\nmoney is the aim of many of today. The poor unfortunates shut up in\nprisons and asylums are in many cases most shamefully mistreated. They\nare supposed to be there for the purpose of reformation or treatment,\nbut were it not for the grace of God in my soul, I never could endure\nthe torture and anguish resulting from the sufferings I find among\nthese poor helpless men and women. I am not supposed to know the\nconditions in these places, but twenty years of experience going\ninside these walls have opened my eyes and I get behind the scenes.\nThere is a time of settling up of accounts and there will be a final\nreckoning day at the judgment bar of God, for what was done in this\nlife, and how many will be weighed in the balance and found wanting!\n\nThe following paper by Clarissa Olds Keeler was written to Brother S.\nB. Shaw and read at the meeting of the National Convocation for Prayer\nat St. Louis, Mo., May, 1903, and will serve to convey some idea of\nconditions as they have existed in some parts of our land; though we\nare glad to say that they are somewhat improved, in many places at\nleast.\n\n         \"LET THE SIGHING OF THE PRISONER COME BEFORE THEE.\"\n\n     \"Now mine eyes shall be open, and mine ears attent unto the\n     prayer that is made in this place.\"--2 Chron. 7:15.\n\n     When attending the Christian Workers' Convention in New York in\n     1887 a man from Tennessee also attending the convention, said to\n     me, \"I wonder the Christian people do not take up the work of\n     alleviating the sufferings of prisoners in the Southern States.\"\n     For years he had been an eye witness to treatment which he\n     described as \"most atrocious,\" and the condition of the convicts,\n     especially those hired to contractors to work in coal mines, as\n     one of \"starvation, fear and disgusting filth.\" Since these words\n     were spoken to me I have spared no pains to inform myself about\n     this new and most revolting form of slavery, and I can find no\n     words more applicable than these: \"This is a people robbed and\n     spoiled; they are all of them snared in holes, and they are hid\n     in prison houses; they are for a prey, and none delivereth; for a\n     spoil and none saith, Restore. Who among you will give ear to\n     this? Who will hearken and hear for the time to come?\" (Isaiah\n     42:22, 23.)\n\n     Each one of the twelve convict leasing states has had its own\n     bloody record which has been written down in God's book.\n     Influential politicians, United States Senators from both north\n     and south, members of state legislatures, private citizens,\n     heartless corporations, have all shared in the money coined out\n     of the bodies and blood of convicts in our southern states.\n\n     But it is not my purpose now to go over the past. Wherever the\n     convict lease system has been introduced \"Its presence has,\" as a\n     Georgian once said, \"been marked by a trail of blood.\" The\n     accounts of this ghastly institution are too revolting to\n     present.\n\n     But I want to call the attention of the Christian people to the\n     present condition of convicts, most of whom are colored, and many\n     of whom are guilty of but trifling offences and some of them none\n     at all.\n\n     A man in Buncome County, North Carolina, wrote to the _Asheville\n     Gazette_, under date of March 15, 1903: \"Where are we at and\n     where is the society for the prevention of cruelty to animals\n     that they or the Christian world have never heard the cries from\n     the poor unfortunate prisoners in the buck and the ringing of the\n     cruel blood stained lash? I have seen white men beaten until\n     their persons were blue and blood oozing from the lash from the\n     captain's hands in the Buncome chain-gang. And negroes--there is\n     no use talking.\" These prisoners, the writer says, have been\n     guilty of some misdemeanor and being poor and unable to pay a\n     fine are \"sent to the road prison and there the lash is\n     administered on the naked back contrary to the spirit of the\n     constitution in abolishing imprisonment for debt and the lash at\n     the whipping-post.\"\n\n     Now I would suggest that a society be formed for the prevention\n     of cruelty to prisoners. While the good people are praying for\n     the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on other lands may they not\n     forget that we need a baptism of fire right here in our own land.\n\n     Our Saviour's last act of mercy and forgiving love was shown\n     toward a prisoner and shall we imitate His example, or shall we\n     not? His last command was: \"Go ye into all the world and preach\n     the gospel to _every creature_.\" How many inmates of our prisons\n     have the gospel presented to them? When we all meet at the\n     judgment, as meet we must, how many will be there from the\n     mining pits and prison pens who can say truthfully, \"No man cared\n     for my soul!\" Neither do we care for the bodies of these\n     unfortunates; and as proof of this I will give you a few extracts\n     from papers of recent date.\n\n     When the National Conference of Charities and Corrections was\n     holding its session in Atlanta the first of the present month,\n     some of the delegates were invited to visit the city prison\n     stockade where misdemeanor convicts are housed at night. This was\n     done \"just for the amusement of the delegates.\" Hear what Mr.\n     Timothy Nicholson of Indiana, a delegate, said about his visit to\n     this \"school of crime.\" He says: \"I found in one room one hundred\n     and sixty prisoners, white men and women, black men and women and\n     even children, both black and white, male and female, all mixed\n     together indiscriminately. I was surprised and shocked to find\n     such a condition of affairs in a civilized country. It is simply\n     a shame and disgrace to civilization.\" The delegates declared the\n     place \"inhuman and degrading.\" Yet this does not fully represent\n     the awful pen picture that might be given of this class of\n     prisoners in the county chain gangs all over the state.\n\n     The following extracts are taken from an account given by an\n     Atlanta correspondent of the _Washington Post_ written under date\n     of May 5, 1903. \"Revelations made to the Ware County grand jury\n     in regard to the horrors of the Georgia convict camps reached\n     Governor Terrell today. Hon. E---- M----, one of the leading\n     members of the Georgia House of Representatives, is involved in\n     the findings of the grand jury.\n\n     \"According to the report M---- and his brother operate an\n     extensive camp in Lowndes County. Witnesses before the grand jury\n     testified that in the M---- camp the brutalities are such that it\n     is revolting to describe them. For the slightest offence, it is\n     alleged, prisoners are stripped and chained and unmercifully\n     lashed by the whipping bosses. It is also alleged that the M----\n     brothers go into counties adjoining Lowndes, pay the fines of\n     misdemeanor convicts, carry such convicts to their Ware County\n     (convict) camp and there keep them in serviture long after the\n     term for which the criminals were sentenced have expired.\n\n     \"The grand jury claims that at least twenty citizens of Ware\n     County are held as slaves in M----'s camp although their terms\n     expired over a year ago. There men are kept in stockade about\n     which armed guards march in order to prevent an escape, and men\n     thus illegally detained who escaped have been chased by\n     bloodhounds and recaptured.\"\n\n     Official reports show that this class of convicts are guilty of\n     but trifling offences and some are vagrants. (For further\n     particulars see _Atlanta Journal_ May 5 and 11, 1903.)\n\n     The penitentiary convicts of Georgia are worked in coal mines and\n     are subject to the same treatment. An experienced penologist said\n     recently concerning convicts worked in the mines: \"In the rooms\n     of the mines are perpetrated practices too horrible to mention.\n     They become the nesting places of a bestiality that in many cases\n     lead the liberated convict into that crime to punish which the\n     mob, the rope and the stake are ever ready.\" (See Atlanta\n     Constitution, May 14, 1903.)\n\n     Under the heading \"Convict Camp Horrors,\" the editor of the\n     Memphis, Tennessee, _Commercial Appeal_ says in his paper, dated\n     April 11, 1903, concerning the facts recently brought out by the\n     legislative investigating committee: \"The stories coming from\n     Brushy Mountain mines, with side lights from the state's convict\n     system, generally, furnish painful reading to the people of\n     Tennessee. When human beings who through fault or fortune's\n     untowardness are condemned to helpless and unresisting servitude\n     and who are subjected to torments and tortures, floggings and\n     flaggellations which are merciful only where they terminated in\n     speedy death, humanity is outraged and a sort of savagery in the\n     public cries out for speedy vengeance.\" Continuing the editor\n     says:\n\n     \"Convicts have been whipped to death. Convicts have been whipped\n     into physical helplessness. Convicts have been whipped\n     sufficiently to keep them in bed for months and injure them\n     permanently. Torturing them in the prison or in the mine recesses\n     is a sin against high heaven.\" These are some of the facts\n     brought to light by the prison investigating committee.\n\n     The average number of prisoners worked in the Brushy Mountain\n     mines is about seven hundred and fifty. These convicts, which\n     form but a part of the number of the state's convicts, and who\n     were so inhumanly treated, earned last year for the state, clear\n     of all expenses, the sum of one hundred and ninety-five\n     thousand, seven hundred dollars. (See Nashville American, March\n     30, 1903.)\n\n     Recent developments also show that many innocent men are\n     kidnapped and worked and treated as convicts; especially is this\n     done in Alabama. Women and children share the same fate. During\n     the recent investigation into the enforced slavery of negroes in\n     Alabama by the United States Secret Service, among the abuses\n     which were unearthed was the whipping to death of a negro woman.\n     \"This woman accused of being rebellious was laid across a log and\n     given one hundred lashes. Still showing a rebellious spirit her\n     hands were tied, and the rope was thrown over the limb of a tree\n     and pulled up so as to make it barely possible for her feet to\n     reach the ground. The woman, it is said, died two days later.\"\n     (See Washington Times, May 29, 1903.)\n\n     The system of peonage slavery has been practiced for years in\n     Alabama and Georgia. One of the most successful plans practiced\n     is to bring a negro before a magistrate on a flimsy charge. As\n     the matter has been arranged beforehand, the negro is convicted,\n     and having no money to pay his fine, a white man offers to\n     advance him money provided the negro will make a labor contract\n     with him for the money and trouble he has taken to keep the negro\n     out of jail. He is taken away and begins what is usually a long\n     term of cruel servitude, frequently whipped unmercifully, and\n     every moment watched by armed guards ready to shoot him down at\n     any attempt to escape.\n\n     Among the evils which have grown out of the prison contract\n     system, the number of which is legion, is that of turning out men\n     and women, boys and girls, thoroughly educated in these schools\n     of crime. They are thrown upon the world homeless and friendless\n     to poison and destroy those with whom they come in contact. Many\n     soon find their way back into prison, and some end their lives\n     upon the gallows.\n\n     We sometimes on a Sabbath morning hear the President of the\n     United States prayed for, but what minister ever prays for the\n     poor parish behind prison bars?\n\n     When the book is opened and we hear the words: \"I was sick and in\n     prison, and ye visited me not,\" what are we going to answer?\n\n    1415 A. St., S. E., Washington, D. C.      CLARISSA OLDS KEELER.\n\nFor about four years at times Mrs. M. A. Perry, of Washington, D C.,\ntraveled with me. In answer to my request for a brief report of the\nwork during that time I received a lengthy letter, from which I\nextract the following:\n\n  Dear Sister Wheaton:\n\nI praise God for the privilege of adding a few words for your book.\nMay the blessing of God rest upon it. To the readers I will say: I\nfirst met Mrs. Wheaton in Boston, in February, 1893, in the home of H.\nL. Hastings, the well-known publisher, where she was a guest. She had\nthen spent ten years in prison and other evangelistic work. I had\nvisited a jail and stationhouses, but never a penitentiary. We first\nwent to the Boston and Maine Railway office. Sister Wheaton said: \"You\npray while I go and ask for a pass to go to the Thomaston, Maine,\nprison.\" In about ten minutes she returned with the desired\ntransportation. By the kindness of the railroad officials from ocean\nto ocean they have helped to forward the work of God. Many earnest\nprayers are offered by Mrs. Wheaton for these men. We never boarded a\ntrain without asking our Heavenly Father to bless the train men from\nthe engineer to the flagman. Many times we have spoken to conductors\nwho have said, \"No one ever talks to railroad men about their souls.\"\n\nAt Thomaston we had to wait until Sunday morning to enter the prison.\nIf ever the Lord Jesus Christ revealed Himself in a prison chapel He\nwas in the midst that Sabbath day. While \"Mother Wheaton\" preached, I\nprayed for her and the presence of the Holy Spirit was so manifest\nthat every man expressed a desire to serve God. The result of that\nday's work for the Master will not be known until we meet when Jesus\nwill reward his servants.\n\nWe next went to the jail in Bangor, Maine, and God blessed the work\nthere in the salvation of souls. Then we went to the prison in\nWethersfield, Connecticut, and from there to the Vermont State Prison\nat Windsor. But I cannot tell about them all! But wherever we went I\nsaw that the prisoners, both men and women, greeted \"Mother Wheaton\"\nwith a heartfelt welcome.\n\nWe went to the prisons of New York state--to Auburn, Sing Sing, the\nTroy jail and on to Buffalo. We visited the penitentiaries in\nPhiladelphia and Baltimore, and the workhouses of Maryland and the\nDistrict of Columbia. We met in these places many precious souls whom\nthe Lord gave his life to redeem and many of them were Christians. The\nblood of Jesus is all powerful to reach any man or woman who will\nrepent and forsake sin and believe in Him. We have great reason to\npraise God for the power of the Holy Spirit to reach the hardest\nhearts. But O, there are behind the bars and \"in the shadow of the\nwalls\" loving and tender hearts. O, that professors of religion would\nwake up to the fact that when Jesus, the King of Glory, shall come He\nwill say, \"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my\nbrethren ye have done it unto me.\"\n\nMay God by his presence and power reveal to the managers of penal\ninstitutions in every land and nation that Jesus Christ is the friend\nof sinners in every condition. I believe the dear Lord Himself has put\nsuch love for prisoners in the heart of our sister Wheaton that she is\nwilling to take a mother's place--no matter when she sees them. In\nriding along on the trains sometimes we came to prisoners (leased out\nto hard labor) in the most unexpected places. We were soon off the\ntrain to look after these men who were marched from the camp or\nstockade.\n\nI must speak of some of the experiences we had in the prisons,\nstockades and prison farms of the southern states. We were, in most\ncases, courteously received and entertained by the wardens and their\nfamilies. God bless the men who have done what they could! But O, how\nI have been shocked at things we saw in these places, many of which I\ncannot write. I wish I could give some idea of how glad the poor\nmanacled prisoners were to see their white-haired \"mother\" come again.\nI believe the seed sown shall not be lost.\n\nThe women on the farms are required to roll logs, clear land and do\nall kinds of drudgery.\n\nWe went to the camps, the phosphate mines, saw-mills, coal mines, and\nthe turpentine camps. Sometimes we rode for miles in wagons. I think\nMother Wheaton never felt that any place was too dangerous or too out\nof the way for her to go in order to say a word of comfort and to\nencourage hearts. We sometimes rode on the engine up the mountains to\ncamps where hundreds of prisoners were working. We saw men with iron\nrings around their necks and a chain and ball attached, some with\nchains around their waists and running down to their ankles with a\nring attached.\n\nI want to speak especially of a visit to one of the state farms where\nall the prisoners, with two exceptions, were colored women.\n\nWhen we arrived at the station there was no vehicle in sight but a\nbuggy and mule which a little boy was driving. She asked him to take\nus to the women's prison, which he kindly did. When we got there\nbetween seventy and eighty women were at dinner, sitting on the ground\nunder the trees with their little tin pails which held boiled bacon\nand cowpeas, with a piece of corn bread in their hands. They had\nworked from sunrise. How they welcomed \"Mother Wheaton\"! Many of them\nwere in tears as she began to sing. She asked how many of them had\nseen her before. Many hands went up and they told where and when they\nhad seen her in the past. How they shook her hand and said, \"O, 'deed\nI is glad to see you once more, honey.\" But soon they had to go back\nto the field till dark. After all had their supper we went to the\nstockade where they were to sleep, to hold a service. Such singing I\nnever heard. Then \"Mother Wheaton\" preached, prayed and sang. If ever\nGod answered prayer He surely did for those poor women and in place of\nthat stockade there is now a new prison house with things reasonably\ncomfortable.\n\nWe went to other farms, stockades and prisons. I do thank God for the\nprivilege of going into these places where \"Mother Wheaton\" was the\nfirst white woman to visit or to pray and sing. Regardless of danger\nin approaching these out-of-the-way places, her love for God and for\nthose who were despised and downtrodden, carried her through untold\nhardships. We were at times in danger of bloodhounds, alligators and\nvenomous reptiles.\n\nI am sure that through her intercession with governors and wardens and\nsuperintendents \"Mother Wheaton's\" work has proved a blessing to\nthousands of prisoners. I have seen the results of her work in many of\nthe states. Her preaching and singing have been used of God, but above\nall I knew that the hours of prevailing prayer have been a still\ngreater power for good. In answer to prayer God has opened doors and\ndone many wonderful things whereof we are glad.\n\nAgain we went to the South to visit prisons and stockades where we had\nbeen in former years. Great changes had been made. There was much\nimprovement in their condition. I hope the time may soon come when\nonly the law of love and kindness shall prevail.\n\nWe held street meetings in many places. One night after holding one of\nthese open-air services we boarded a train. A man and wife came on the\ntrain. She told us that her husband had attended the street meeting\nand was under such conviction for sin that he could not rest. There on\nthe train, while we knelt in the aisle of the car, he was converted to\nGod and went on his way rejoicing, while we went to visit a\npenitentiary where hundreds of men and women needed the same work of\ngrace wrought in their hearts.\n\nOften we saw answers to prayer in the healing of prisoners who were\nsick. God's Word is true. He says He is no respecter of persons, and\nHe is able to do more than we can ask or think. May God bless every\nsoul for whom we have prayed.\n\nSister Wheaton and myself have spent many long hours at a time\ntogether pleading for the men and women behind the bars. It means much\nto be divinely called to this work.\n\nOh! how many with broken hearts lie in the lonely cells every night!\nMay God help everyone who reads these pages to remember that there is\none MOTHER of all the prisoners who weeps and prays in sympathy with\nthem. I wish every mother and wife, or sister, who has a precious one\n\"in the shadow of the walls,\" would pray for \"Mother Wheaton,\" that\nshe may be helped of God in preaching the Word, and that God's\nblessing may rest upon her for her kind loving words and the\nhand-clasp that reaches so many hearts. Pray that health and strength\nmay be given her as she comes in and goes out among these erring ones.\n\nI know she has been through deep waters and great sorrows. Her life\nhas been one of self-sacrifice in behalf of the unfortunate. May God\nbless and help her and give her the crown of righteousness that is\nlaid up for the faithful.\n\nOne night after worship at the home of the warden with whom we were\nstopping, Sister Wheaton was singing a hymn, when suddenly the warden\nasked, \"Sister Wheaton, will you come over into the prison-yard and\nfinish that hymn?\" She replied she would gladly do so if he thought it\nwould do good. So we hastened to the prison-yard, some little distance\naway, and quietly entered the enclosure, and she began singing. Her\nclear, strong voice awakened the sleeping prisoners. The incident was\nso unusual that some of them (as we were told afterward), negroes\nespecially, awaking suddenly, thought that the Judgment Day had come,\nand tumbling out of bed, fell upon their knees and began praying for\nGod to have mercy upon them and save their souls; so God evidently\nused the song to bring conviction to hearts. After the singing we\nreturned as quietly as we had come, trusting the results with God.\n\n[Illustration: NEW MEXICO PRISON, SANTA FE, N. M.]\n\n\n\n\n                          CHAPTER XIII.\n\n       Work in Fort Madison, Iowa, and Santa Fe, New Mexico\n\n\nSoon after starting out in my work, when changing cars in an Iowa town\nI saw a crowd of people who were curiously gazing upon three young men\nwho were handcuffed, and bound together being taken to the state's\nprison at Fort Madison. I went up to them, shook hands, and said, \"I\nam sorry for you. Don't be discouraged. Cheer up. Give God your\nhearts. Obey the rules. Do the best you can and God will do the rest.\"\nThey seemed cheered and relieved seeing I neither feared nor shunned\nthem. I inquired their names and told them I would try to see them in\nprison, but did not know how soon.\n\nA few weeks later I went to Fort Madison and obtained permission of\nthe Chaplain, W. C. Gunn, to hold a meeting the following Sunday. This\nwas my first effort to hold divine service in a prison. Then I\ninquired for the three young men I had seen when on their way there,\nbut could find no record of them. I assured the Chaplain they were\nthere and observing the prisoners closely I saw one of them at work.\nAs our eyes met, I saw a look of distress on his face. He recognized\nme and was afraid I would tell who he was. He had given a ficticious\nname--as had also the others.\n\nBut before Sunday came I began to think: \"What if I should make a\nmistake and could think of nothing to say when I come before all those\nhundreds of prisoners?\" And then there were the officers in their\nsuits of blue with brass buttons! It all seemed too much for me, and,\nlike Jonah, I took ship and ran away.\n\nThat night I started by steamer for Mobile, Alabama--but God knew I\ndid not mean to disobey and He let me work among the stockades in the\nsouth until I got boldness to enter other prisons. After a year or\nmore I returned to Fort Madison and was granted the privilege offered\nme before and from that time to this I have always been made welcome\nthere and have had many blessed seasons within these walls. There is\nno place where I have been more kindly received by both officers and\nprisoners than at Fort Madison. Chaplain Gunn and wife were always\ntrue and loyal friends. 'Tis now several years since he crossed over\nto the better shore. I shall ever remember with deep gratitude the\nkindness of himself and family. Chaplain Jessup and wife, and Warden\nJones and wife, as well as other officials, have been especially kind\nand courteous. To the prisoners at Fort Madison, also, I must give the\ncredit of contributing freely from their small savings to my\nnecessities. While I would gladly mention all who have especially\nbefriended me I feel that this tribute is due to the officers and men\nof Fort Madison. That it is deserved may be easily seen by the\nfollowing communications and selections from letters which I find\namong my papers:\n\n                            Warden's Office, Iowa Penitentiary,\n                              Fort Madison, Iowa, August 3, 1889.\n\n     The bearer, Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton, a devoted Christian woman,\n     has for years been visiting the prisons and jails of this country\n     seeking to do good to their inmates. I think she should be kindly\n     received and encouraged by prison authorities. I do not think any\n     one has ever spoken to the convicts in this prison with better\n     effect and I am sure that no one who has ever addressed them will\n     be longer or more kindly remembered by them than Mrs. Wheaton. I\n     heartily commend her and her good work to those engaged in\n     prison management and to good people everywhere as most deserving\n     of their aid and encouragement. It affords me all the more\n     pleasure to give Mrs. Wheaton this testimonial because it was\n     unsolicited and because of the unobtrusive way in which she goes\n     about doing good.\n\n                                           G. W. GROSLEY, Warden.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Ft. Madison, Iowa, Oct. 5, 1893.\n\n     Rev. J. M. Croker, Chaplain State Prison, Anamosa, Ia.\n\n     My Dear Brother: This will introduce to you our dear sister, Mrs.\n     Wheaton, the prison missionary, who would like to address the\n     prisoners. Any favors shown her will be duly appreciated.\n\n                        Yours truly,        W. C. GUNN, Chaplain.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Fort Madison, Iowa, June 4, 1897.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, Tabor, Iowa.\n\n     My Dear Mother: I will first ask your pardon for not answering\n     your letter sooner. But I am always so busy the last days of the\n     month, also the first days, as I have all the time of the\n     contract men to make up to send to the contractors, also have my\n     monthly report to the governor, and as we give the boys a holiday\n     Monday I think you would readily see I have had my hands full.\n\n     I sometimes think it is more than I can stand. I want to do right\n     by the men but it is so hard at times to tell just what is right.\n     I sincerely thank you for your kind interest in me. And may our\n     great and good God always be with you is the wish of your true\n     friend.\n\n                                      J. R. JONES, Deputy Warden.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                               Fort Madison, Iowa, Sept. 6, 1899.\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton: Enclosed please find draft for ----, the poor boys'\n     free-will offering in appreciation of your kindness in visiting\n     them. You are thought more of by them than any one else\n     living--even their relatives. Please sign the enclosed receipt,\n     and send it back to me, that I may have something to show what\n     became of the money. Thanking you for your visit.\n\n                                               Yours truly,\n                                            W. C. GUNN, Chaplain.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                               Fort Madison, Iowa, Feb. 13, 1901.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, Tabor, Ia.\n\n     My Dear Sister: Enclosed find draft for ---- from\n     prisoners--entirely a free will offering, given without other\n     solicitation than what you heard me say when you were here.\n     Please excuse delay in forwarding, partly due to uncertainty as\n     to your whereabouts. Perhaps you will write me a short message\n     for the men, who will be glad to hear from you. With best wishes\n     and prayers for your welfare and success in your work, I am, Very\n     sincerely yours,\n\n                                          A. H. JESSUP, Chaplain.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n     My acquaintance with Mrs. Wheaton began four years ago, at the\n     first Sunday service I held as chaplain of this prison. Standing\n     by my office window before the men had come into the chapel, I\n     saw a motherly-appearing lady enter the prison, escorted by the\n     assistant deputy. A few moments later we met on the chapel\n     platform, and I was introduced to \"Mother Wheaton,\" the woman who\n     for many years had, in prisons and jails, all over the country,\n     sought to quicken in the prisoners' bosom a new life, and lead to\n     the Savior those who all their lives have been rejecting Him. It\n     was my first service with the men, as I have said, and I felt\n     constrained to preach as I had come prepared to do, although on\n     subsequent visits I have gladly granted all the time to Mother\n     Wheaton. After I had preached, Mrs. Wheaton talked, and sang, and\n     prayed, and many of the men were visibly affected, some to tears,\n     by her earnest pleading. Later she went to my office and met a\n     boy who was soon going out, and prayed and talked with him in a\n     manner that must have made him determine to strive for a better\n     manhood. Our prison has received several visits from Mother\n     Wheaton since then, and always, I believe, with lasting good to\n     the men, over many of whom she has exerted an influence for good.\n     Earnest, apt and ready in speech, always seeming to live close to\n     God, and to hold instant communion with Him, and consecrated soul\n     and body, time and means, to her work--these perhaps account for\n     her useful service. That she has a ready sense of humor, too, is\n     perhaps one reason the \"boys\" listen to her so well. I recall one\n     incident. She had come down from Burlington, where she was\n     obliged to secure a pass on the railroad. The proper officer not\n     being at hand, she went from one to another, until at last one\n     was found with authority to issue a pass, but who did not know\n     her or her mission. \"On what ground do you want a pass?\" said the\n     railroad man. \"I am working for God, and He owns the railroads,\"\n     was the unexpected reply. \"But, madam, where are you going?\"\n     gasped the official. Quick as a flash came the answer, \"To\n     heaven!\" But by this time the railroad man had recovered from his\n     surprise, and seemed equal to the emergency, and proved himself\n     to be a gentleman as well, for he said quietly: \"If that is your\n     destination, madam, I am unable to accommodate you, for I regret\n     to say the place is not on our line; but if you want a pass to\n     any place on our road you can have it.\" In relating the incident\n     in the prison chapel Mother Wheaton added that she secured her\n     pass to Fort Madison, and that when she reached here she thought\n     she was next to heaven, for here she had first attempted her work\n     for souls, in State's Prisons, and here she believed many\n     precious trophies for the Master had been given her.\n\n     I noticed on her last visit that while she seemed in usual\n     health, her hair was whiter, betokening the gathering years. I\n     could wish that now she who for so many years has not known the\n     blessing of home, might find a place in which to spend in rest\n     and communion with God, and helpful but gentle ministrations, the\n     balance of her life, until He whom she has followed in her\n     efforts to do good, may say: \"Come up higher, thou blessed of my\n     Father. Inasmuch as ye did it unto the least of these my brethren\n     ye did it unto me.\"\n\n                                                 A. H. JESSUP,\n                                Chaplain Iowa State Penitentiary.\n\n     Fort Madison, Iowa, April 18, 1904.\n\n\n                  WORK IN SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO.\n\nSeveral interesting experiences have occurred in connection with my\nvisits to the prison at Santa Fe, New Mexico. At one time I found\nthere a good old Christian man, \"a trusty,\" who had charge of the\nSuperintendent's horses, driving the family to town, etc., and had\nmuch liberty given him. One day he sat in front of me, driving to\ntown, and I said to him, \"I am going to pray to God to remove the\n'stripes' from you.\" He said, \"Pray for my release--I know God hears\nprayer.\" I did so, as did also my good co-workers, returned\nmissionaries home from Africa on a visit. In three or four days the\nwarden gave him citizens' clothes; and soon after the governor gave\nhim his pardon.\n\nWe were led to pray for a pardon for brother T. of the same prison,\nand in three months he was a free man. At the time I had a sister with\nme from Japan. On my return from the Pacific coast we again held\nservices in the prison at Santa Fe, and during the meeting I said,\n\"What do you want me to sing, boys?\" One said, \"Sing, 'Some Mother's\nBoy.'\" I did so, and in the morning, before I left the prison, the\nofficer said to me, \"Here is two dollars a man sent in from the prison\nfor you.\" Upon inquiring the name of the prisoner I found it was J. L.\nAs they told me he was a good man, a Christian, and a good prisoner, I\ntook his case also to the Lord in prayer. Within three weeks he was\ngiven a pardon by the governor. The three men mentioned were all\nChristians.\n\nIn none of these cases did I go to the governor, but just left all in\nGod's hands, and prayed if God was pleased to set these men free, that\nHe would impress the governor to give them their release. These cases\noccurred at different times. I am sure that the hope of pardon has in\nmany cases saved the lives of prisoners, and also saved them from\ninsanity.\n\nI give below a letter received from Brother T., also quote from a\nsketch of his life, as published by McAuley Water Street Mission, N.\nY., and sent me by himself; also letters from the Secretary of the\nChristian Endeavor Society of the Santa Fe Prison, and very kind\nletters from Governor Thornton, Superintendent H. O. Bursom, and\nBrother S. H. Hadley, of Water Street Mission.\n\n                                                    May 26, 1903.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     I suppose you will be surprised to hear from me. The last time I\n     saw you was in the Santa Fe Territorial Prison. You had a meeting\n     in the cell house. I was the trusty who went with you to the\n     depot. If you remember, you prayed for the removal of the number\n     from the back of No. 917 and that he would be freed; you also\n     told me you would pray that I would get out of prison. Your\n     prayers have been answered. I was pardoned last Christmas, and am\n     here working among the criminal classes as a missionary. You\n     remember of my having been converted before your visit to the\n     prison. It is a great blessing to me to spend the balance of my\n     life thus, who had been sent to prison for forty years, under\n     conviction and sentence for a crime of which I was perfectly\n     innocent, although I was a great sinner in other respects.\n\n                     Yours in the grand work,\n                                                         E. U. T.\n\n\n                SENTENCED TO FORTY YEARS IN PRISON.\n\n     On the night of July 6, 18----, I was playing the banjo in a\n     notorious gambling house in Albuquerque, New Mexico. It had been\n     my business for years and I liked the surroundings; they suited\n     me exactly; in fact, I have traveled from my home in the East,\n     from city to city, through all the slumdum of the western cities\n     playing my banjo; I thoroughly enjoyed it and the company which\n     it brought me. * * * I was arrested on suspicion and locked in\n     jail. I had no money, no friends and no character, and I began to\n     realize for the first time what my life was bringing me. I was\n     finally brought to trial and convicted on circumstantial\n     evidence, and sentenced to forty years in prison for a crime that\n     I knew nothing more about than the judge who sat upon the bench.\n\n     Dear reader, can you enter into this story with me; can you form\n     an idea of my despair as I received practically a life sentence\n     for something which I did not do? My heart was hard and bitter\n     against myself and everybody else as I was taken to the\n     Territorial penitentiary at Santa Fe, New Mexico. I was in the\n     prime of life, only 28 years old, but, oh, what steps I had\n     already taken in the downward path that leadeth unto death. Every\n     evil habit had fastened itself upon me, and after I had taken my\n     place in the prison I almost went wild with terror and despair\n     when I realized what was before me. I was soon set to work with\n     pick and shovel digging out trenches on the grounds, and I tried\n     to do the work the best I could and be a good prisoner. I presume\n     I was, for a little time afterward I was placed in the library,\n     and had charge of the greenhouse as well.\n\n     One Sunday afternoon in the chapel the speaker took for his text,\n     St. John, 3, 14th and 15th verses: \"As Moses lifted up the\n     serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted\n     up;\"\n\n     \"That whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have\n     everlasting life.\"\n\n     The speaker dwelt at length on this actual occurrence and also\n     how God commanded Moses to erect a pole with the brass serpent,\n     and although there were there people dying by the thousands,\n     those that looked on that brazen serpent were healed. He brought\n     the application home to us prisoners--how the serpent of sin had\n     stung us so deeply and our only remedy was to look to Jesus\n     Christ, who was lifted up on the cross, and my hard heart began\n     to melt and a desire came to me to be healed of this terrible\n     serpent's bite. The speaker instructed us when we got back to our\n     cells to read this whole chapter, and when I got back to my cell\n     I took up the book and read, and I prayed to God to open my heart\n     so that I could understand what He wanted of me, and as I read\n     the blessed Holy Spirit came to my poor soul and showed me what a\n     sinful man I was, and I then and there became a child of God.\n     Great peace came to my soul, which at first I could scarcely\n     understand, but although still a prisoner and wearing the\n     stripes, I was a free man in Christ Jesus, and I rejoiced in my\n     new found life. After this, prison life was not so dreary as it\n     was before.\n\n     Among the many different workers who came to the prison was Mr.\n     and Mrs. J. E. Wood, of Santa Fe; he is Mail Agent on the road.\n     He is a blessed man, and one who loves the prisoners. Another\n     person I would like to mention is the person known as \"Mother\n     Wheaton.\" I think I should speak of a little circumstance that\n     happened to one prisoner who went by the number 917, and who wore\n     this number in great big cloth figures on his back; he drove\n     \"Mother Wheaton\" to town, as he was a \"trusty,\" and she said that\n     she was going to pray that the Lord would take that number off\n     his back, and in a few days after that the Warden came in with a\n     new suit of clothes for him without the stripes or\n     number--citizen's clothes. She once said to me: \"I am going to\n     pray to the Lord to get you out of here,\" reminding me of the\n     prayer she made for No. 917. \"Mother Wheaton\" prayed for my\n     release. On Christmas day, 1902, three months after the above\n     conversation took place, I was in the chapel of the prison in the\n     entertainment that was going on. Governor Otero sat in the\n     balcony.\n\n     The custom is that someone shall receive a pardon on Christmas\n     day, and no one has any intimation who it is excepting the\n     Governor. I had not the slightest idea that I would be the lucky\n     man, and after the Assistant Superintendent asked that I play a\n     certain composition of my own, he requested me to step out and he\n     read the pardon; to my surprise my name was in the pardon, and,\n     oh, the joy that came to me when I began to realize that I was a\n     free man, but, dear reader, this pardon, great as it was, did not\n     compare with the joy that came in my soul as I realized that I\n     had received the pardon from my Redeemer, and that all my sins\n     were forgiven and all my past crimes blotted out.\n\n     While in the prison I read an account in a paper of the\n     experience of S. H. Hadley, who was then in New York connected\n     with the Jerry McAuley Mission, and I was desirous of going to\n     New York to meet this man. I did so, and before I had been ten\n     minutes in his office he told me what already was filling my\n     soul, that I should be a worker for Christ and try to save those\n     who had fallen, and the down-trodden. I stepped out on the Lord's\n     promises with but very little knowledge, except the knowledge of\n     sins forgiven, and a big hope in my soul of eternal life, and a\n     love that I cannot express, without one dollar in my pocket, but\n     with the simple faith in Jesus. I am working every night and day\n     at every door that is open, and every one that I can open, where\n     I can tell the wonderful story of Jesus' love to sinners. Dear\n     reader, pray for me that God may wonderfully use me.\n\n       \"The dying thief rejoiced to see\n         The Fountain in his day,\n       And there I do, though vile as he,\n         Wash all my sins away.\"\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                         New York, ---- 18, 1904.\n\n     Dear Mother:\n\n     It gives me much pleasure when I think of your going from prison\n     to prison telling the poor boys and girls behind the bars of\n     Jesus. It always gave me great joy when I heard that our dear\n     mother was going to speak to her boys at ---- Prison; because I\n     knew you were our friend. I wish to again thank you for the day\n     that you prayed that God would open the prison doors for me. God\n     answered your prayer, and after serving about seven years of a\n     forty years' sentence the prison doors were opened for me, and\n     God sent me to New York to labor for souls. He sent me to Mr. S.\n     H. Hadley, the present superintendent of the old McAuley Mission,\n     and he has been indeed a father to me.\n\n     I am so thankful that God sent me to such a good man--one who\n     loves the lost sinner; and one who is willing to do anything in\n     his power to help the helpless. May God's richest blessings be\n     your portion is the prayer of your son in the Gospel.\n\n                                                         E. U. T.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                    McAuley Water Street Mission,\n                                        New York, Sept. 11, 1903.\n\n     \"Mother Wheaton,\" as the boys behind the prison-bars, yes, and\n     those who have by her prayers gone out from behind the\n     prison-bars, affectionately call her, is one of the unique,\n     missionary characters in this country. She travels all over this\n     land with but one object in view and that is to tell sinners of\n     the powerful, deathless love of Jesus and how no one can be too\n     bad for Him to save. She brings sunshine to many sorrowing hearts\n     and hope to thousands who never knew what hope was until they met\n     her. An ex-convict, who is one of my helpers now, was prayed out\n     of practically a life sentence by Mother Wheaton.\n\n     I have seen her curled up in some seat in a day coach at three\n     o'clock in the morning on a Southern railroad because she had not\n     money enough to take a \"sleeper\" and had to travel all night or\n     lose an appointment to speak at some stockade or prison.\n\n     God bless her book and speed it on.\n\n                                                    S. H. HADLEY.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                   Santa Fe, N. M., May 26, 1903.\n\n     Elizabeth Wheaton, Prison Evangelist,\n        Los Angeles, Cal.\n\n     Dear Friend in Christ: Yours of 23d received, and am happy to say\n     that Mr. Trout (No. 99) has been pardoned, and is now engaged in\n     bringing souls to Christ down on Water street in the McAuley\n     Mission, New York City, using his musical talents to further the\n     cause in which he is now devoting the rest of his life. I am sure\n     he would be more than pleased to hear from you. All the boys are\n     as well as could be expected, and a visit from you would be much\n     appreciated.\n\n     The C. E. S. has increased by seventy, making a total of one\n     hundred and five. God bless you in all your efforts in the cause\n     of Christ is the wish of all.\n\n                                              Respectfully,\n                                      P. M., sec. Prison C. E. S.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Santa Fe, N. M., July 28, 1903.\n\n     Dear Mother: ... Your letter to Mr. J. W. L. came to hand in due\n     time. I wrote you at Tabor, Iowa, in regard to the God-given\n     gift, sweet liberty, which came to him on the twelfth of July.\n     God has answered your prayer sooner than he had expected. He left\n     the prison gates with full trust and confidence in the mercies of\n     the omnipotent power of God. He is now in W---- with his brother.\n     May God's benign countenance look down upon you and increase the\n     manifold blessing and grace that He has so richly endowed you\n     with. I will distribute the tracts and learn the song. All your\n     boys send their respects and wish to be remembered in your\n     prayers.\n\n                                        Yours in Christ Jesus,\n                                             P. M., Sec. C. E. S.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n        New Mexico Penitentiary, Santa Fe, N. M., Sept. 19, 1903.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     I was pleased to hear from you, and was exceedingly happy to know\n     that you are going to put your experiences and noble work of the\n     past amongst the unfortunates in prison into book form.\n     Certainly, dear mother, no one knows the heartaches and sorrows\n     of this class better than yourself. God has blest you in\n     preparing you for this work and sending you from prison to prison\n     to gather in the wavering souls from eternal destruction.\n\n     God grant you many years more of service in the field where souls\n     are perishing and when your earthly career shall have closed, the\n     shining crown of eternal bliss in the presence of the King of\n     Heaven and Earth, will forever be your beacon light to make you\n     think of the ones below. Many, yea many unfortunates not yet born\n     will read from these same prison cells of the work of \"Mother\n     Wheaton\" in the prisons of our country. My every breath and\n     prayerful utterance is \"God be with you till we meet again.\"\n\n     As ever, one of your boys in Christ Jesus,\n\n                                         PHILIP M., Sec. C. E. S.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                      TERRITORY OF NEW MEXICO.\n\n            Office of the Executive, Santa Fe, N. M., Oct., 1895.\n\n     Judge E. V. Long, Las Vegas.\n\n     Dear Sir: This will introduce to you Mrs. Wheaton, traveling in\n     the interests of the prisons and asylums. She may want to hold a\n     service at the asylum. If so please see that the opportunity is\n     afforded her.\n\n                                          Yours respectfully,\n                                        W. T. THORNTON, Governor.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n        New Mexico Penitentiary, Sante Fe, N. M., Sept. 19, 1903.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton has been paying our institution visits on\n     various occasions for some years past, and during these visits\n     has done very much valuable work towards furthering the\n     discipline of the institution. Her words of comfort and wholesome\n     advice together with her teachings of Christianity has cheered\n     many a poor, unfortunate soul up to believing and hoping for a\n     better future; to realize that justice demands that some\n     punishment be meted out to wrong doers and violators of the laws\n     of the land; that such punishment is not eternal; that they can\n     receive consolation and comfort their conscience even inside of\n     the prison walls by resolving to be better men, by a closer\n     observance of the moral laws as dictated by their conscience, a\n     faithful compliance of their duties as men or women, and a strict\n     obedience to their overseers acting under the law and, above all,\n     an abiding faith in the Almighty God.\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton has taught them to understand that they must not\n     only resolve but must demonstrate by their actions in every day\n     life a sincerity of purpose.\n\n     The management feels very grateful indeed for the splendid work\n     so generously devoted in the interest of humanity, which I\n     consider also a most valuable assistance to the prison management\n     in maintaining discipline and turning out discharged prisoners as\n     better men and women, better equipped morally, physically and\n     spiritually to meet and solve the problem of living an honest and\n     upright life, earn and care for those who may be dependent upon\n     them.\n\n                                    H. O. BURSOM, Superintendent.\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER XIV.\n\n                     Gone Home from the Scaffold.\n\n     \"Let the sighing of the prisoner come before thee; according to\n     the greatness of thy power, preserve thou those that are\n     appointed to die.\"--Psalms 79:11.\n\n     \"Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer.\"\n\n\nOne of the most touching things, and to me the most important of all\nthis God-appointed work, has been my special mission to those who are\ndoomed to execution.\n\nIf there ever is a time in our lives when we need a friend, it is when\nwe are sick, in trouble, or about to die. The last words of our loved\nones are very dear to us all. Nearly every home has at some time had a\ncall from the death angel. And looking through the bureau drawer, you\nmight see the little garments, shoes and playthings that used to be\nour darlings' before they went away. Turn the leaves of the old Family\nBible and you will see hidden between its pages a lock of hair,\nperhaps father's or mother's. We look up to Heaven through our\nblinding tears, and cry out between our sobs: \"Oh, God, help me to say\n'Thy will be done.'\"\n\nIn looking over my packages of old letters from the departed ones who\nhave paid the penalty of a violated law, dying either in the electric\nchair or on the scaffold, I find them coming to pieces, some so badly\nworn I can scarcely read them. And I know the hands that penned them\nare now returning back to dust.\n\nIn order to show how God saves when they are truly penitent, even men\nof this class, who are counted the worst of criminals, I will give an\naccount of a few instances which have come under my own observation,\nand extracts from some of the letters I have received--written before\nexecution. And let us remember that our Savior declared that every sin\nshall be forgiven to men, except the sin against the Holy Ghost.\n\n\n                  INDIFFERENT BUT FINALLY CONVERTED.\n\nThe first one who was converted under my ministry, before going to the\nscaffold, was executed in August, 1885, in the state of Kentucky. On\ngoing to jail I found this young man there with the sentence of death\nupon him. The burden of his lost condition came upon my soul in great\npower. I felt I should die unless he was saved, and cried mightily to\nGod for his conviction and conversion. I held several meetings there\nand was entertained a part of the time by the sheriff's wife, who was\na Christian lady. She, too, was very anxious for this young man's\nsalvation. As I took the train to leave the place, his mother\naccompanied me to the depot--crying and pleading, \"Oh, pray for my\npoor boy. It will surely kill me.\" The bitter wail of that mother's\nheart seems to still ring in my ears. Letters from the sheriff's wife\ncame often, telling me of the boy's still seeming indifferent. But she\nsaid that he often inquired about me and wanted to see me.\n\nI prayed for this soul almost incessantly for forty-five days, being\nscarcely able to sleep at night; and he was finally converted. After\nhis conversion I received from him the following letters:\n\n                                       ----, KY., August 5, 1885.\n\n     My Dear Friend:\n\n     I received your card this morning and was very glad to hear from\n     you indeed. Mrs. Wheaton, I feel my Savior in my heart. I know\n     that He will save my soul. I am praying to my God every hour in\n     the day. I am praying for God to place something in my heart to\n     tell the people when I go to the scaffold. I want to tell them\n     what my Savior has placed in my heart--the man that suffered and\n     died that I should have everlasting life. I wish you could be\n     with me once more on earth to sing and pray with me, but if not,\n     I will meet you on that other shore. My friend Charley is praying\n     and singing with me every day and night and says he will meet us\n     in the kingdom. They are all well here but Mrs. N. (the sheriff's\n     wife). She has been sick, but is better now. I would like to be\n     with you once more before I die, and if not, look out for me when\n     you reach that happy land. Good-by, good-by. Remember me in your\n     prayers. I have yet nine days to live.\n\n                                           From your friend,\n                                                     H---- F----.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                      ----, KY., August 12, 1885.\n\n     My Dear Friend:\n\n     I received your card tonight at my cell door. I seem to see you\n     now at the door of my cell, praying for me. The sheriff came in\n     this morning and put shackles on me. But I thank God that after\n     two days more I will be at rest. I have been praying to my Father\n     to teach me something to tell the world at my last hour. I would\n     like to tell everybody what my dear Savior has done for me. He\n     has given me what I asked Him for and He will go with me to the\n     scaffold. I will see you again, \"In the fair and happy land, just\n     across on the evergreen shore.\" I am ready to go home to rest. I\n     have suffered enough in this world, so I will bid the world\n     good-by. I will have to bid you good-by for the present. I will\n     see you again. I will watch for you. Excuse me for not answering\n     you sooner. I am in my cell and it is very dark for me to write,\n     but I do my best. I fast and pray most all the time. Good-by once\n     more for a while.\n\n                        From your true friend,\n                                                            H. F.\n\nBelow is an extract from a letter written by the sheriff's wife to me\nshortly after the execution took place:\n\n     Dear Sister:\n\n     I fulfill the promise I made to poor Henry the day he was\n     executed, to write you a letter and tell you all about him after\n     he was gone to that bright glory land. It would have done you\n     good to have seen him the last three days he lived. He was as\n     happy as he could be. He had a smile on his countenance all the\n     time and never broke down, no difference who of his friends came\n     to see him. He talked to his mother and brothers so nice and gave\n     them such good advice. He told his mother to not grieve after\n     him, but to rejoice, for he would be so much better off after he\n     was gone, for he knew that he would be at rest. And if they would\n     live and do right they could come to him. The people that were\n     here that day (and there were between four and five thousand)\n     were surprised to see the beautiful countenance he left the\n     prison with. He helped to sing that beautiful hymn,\n\n       \"And must I be to judgment brought,\n         And answer in that day\n       For every vain and idle thought\n         And every word I say?\"\n\n     with the chorus,\n\n        \"We are passing away,\"\n\n     and he was heard distinctly by all. He clapped his hands while he\n     was singing; then he stepped on to the trap and was soon gone. He\n     had a prayer on his lips when the black cap was drawn over his\n     face, and said, \"Good-by\" to all his friends, and repeated,\n     \"Good-by.\" He told me to tell you he expected to meet you in\n     heaven. His mother and brothers send their kindest regards to\n     you. May God bless you.\n\n                               Your sister in Christ,\n                                                            S. N.\n\n                          MOTHER'S PRAYERS.\n\nThe case of C---- was one of most intense interest to the public as\nwell as his immediate friends. For long months I wept and prayed for\nthis young man. He was hoping for a new trial. He was always glad to\nsee me and to have me sing for him. He was refined, educated, a member\nof \"one of the F. F. V.'s,\" as they say, yet doomed to die on the\nscaffold. How my heart longed to see him saved--for Jesus, too, was\nlonging for his salvation.\n\nI was called to other fields of labor before the fatal day and was not\nsure of his acceptance with God, but can but hope that his poor\nmother's prayers and mine were heard in heaven and that that poor,\nmisguided youth whose every wish had before been gratified was\nforgiven. We can but cast the mantle of charity over the case and\nleave it with Him who wills not that any should perish but that all\nshould turn to Him and live. He wrote me the following:\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, Prison Missionary:\n\n     I appreciate very highly your kindness and sympathy and more so\n     your prayers. I trust we may all meet in a better land. Return my\n     thanks to Mrs. Gen T----.\n\n                                              Respectfully,\n                                                         T. J. C.\n\n     Aug. 24, 1885.\n\n\n                        CLAIMED TO BE INNOCENT.\n\nThe following letter is from one who was executed in 1887. He declared\nto the very last that he was innocent of the crime for which he was\nconvicted. He always maintained to me that the person he was supposed\nto have murdered committed suicide under circumstances which threw\nsuspicion upon him. For myself, I do not believe in capital punishment\nand certainly if it is ever justifiable it is not in any case that\nleaves a possibility of doubt regarding the guilt of the accused.\n\nIn spite of great hindrances, being in the place, I was led to visit\nthe jail. After having sung for some of the other prisoners an officer\ncame to me asking if I would go down below to visit a condemned man\nwho had heard me sing and requested that I would come to him. Of\ncourse I went--though the opening to his cell was so small that I had\nto stoop very low to get in. If I remember rightly he claimed to be\nconverted that day. I was obliged to leave the city soon after, but\nheard from him several times before his execution.\n\n                                    Petersburg, Va., April, 1887.\n\n     My Dear Friend: I received your postal and will answer it at\n     once. I was very glad to hear from you, especially as you remind\n     me so much of my dear old mother--not exactly now, but as she was\n     about fifteen years ago. * * *\n\n     Mrs. R. sang the same hymn for me that I heard you sing to those\n     in the room above me. She said she would, if she had the chance\n     before she left the city, write it for me and bring it to me, but\n     as she has not been here yet I fear she has left, so I will be\n     very glad if you will be so kind as to write it for me. It is\n     beautiful.\n\n     I was very sorry you left so soon. I would have been so glad for\n     you to have been in town longer so you could have called at least\n     once more! But if I never see you on this earth it is comforting\n     to know we may meet in heaven. But, O God! had I received\n     justice, today I would be as free as the birds of the field.\n     There is a blessed hope in knowing while we are persecuted by\n     men, it is only the body they can persecute on this earth, the\n     soul is out of their reach. And before the flesh is cold in death\n     my soul will be soaring above in the realms of bliss to be\n     forever blessed! O forever! Forevermore! It is one of the most\n     consoling of all consolations for me to know that it is only the\n     condemnation of man and the so-called law of the land by which I\n     was convicted--not by--no, not by--the great Judge of all hearts\n     and not by justice at all. Only condemned by man--not by my God\n     and justice. But it is all in God's hands and He will repay, for\n     \"Vengeance is mine,\" saith the Lord. Vengeance is not mine nor do\n     I wish to revenge any one. * * * \"Revenge is sweet,\" is an old\n     adage, but not to me to get revenge and by so doing lose my own\n     soul, for what is the whole world to gain and lose your own soul?\n     I am charged with that of which I am not guilty, but my\n     protestation is in no way believed. Neither was the only pure\n     one who ever trod the soil of this earth. He was caught and\n     charged, accused, condemned--yes, more than that, was crucified.\n     Was he guilty? No--emphatically no. But his innocence could not\n     save him. Nor did mine do me any good in my trial at all. But,\n     thank God, it will do me good in the world to come, where I will\n     receive justice and I will not be in danger of prejudice as lies\n     and prejudice are the cause of my being in this lonely cell\n     today. * * *\n\n     All the boys in the room over me request me to be remembered in\n     my letter to you kindly. Many thanks to you for those tracts you\n     sent me. I hope to be remembered in your daily appeals to our\n     Maker, in whose care I prayerfully submit myself and you to his\n     keeping in the future. God grant it and may we meet in heaven.\n     Hoping this will in no way offend you and that it may be answered\n     soon to one in solitude--yet not alone; condemned--yet not\n     guilty.\n\n                           Your brother in Christ,\n                                                         W. R. P.\n\n\n                          HARDENED IN CRIME.\n\nThe case of the writer of the following communications (which were\nwritten on postal cards) was one of note. He was supposed to be so\nhardened in crime and so void of feeling that there was no hope for\nhim--that nothing could reach or save him. But I believed that God\nloved him just as the Word teaches us, and I laid hold on the promises\nof the Bible for his soul's salvation. I am sure that God never turns\na penitent soul away empty who comes to Him in faith, feeling that He\nis a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him. \"O ye of little faith,\nwherefore didst thou doubt?\"\n\nAfter the light of God broke in upon this poor man's soul he saw that\nhe was a wretched sinner, but that there was pardon and peace for all\nwho truly repent of their sins and who confess and forsake them. To\nsuch God has given the promise of eternal life and that the blood of\nJesus Christ his Son shall cleanse their hearts from all sin. This man\nwas convinced of his need of a Savior and deeply convicted of sin and\nwe believe was made ready to meet God. He seemed very deeply thankful\nto me for my untiring efforts in his behalf and surprised at my faith\nand confidence in God for him, and through these He was brought by the\npower of the Spirit unto repentance toward God and faith in our Lord\nJesus Christ.\n\n                                                   June 18, 1887.\n\n     My Dear, Kind Friend:\n\n     I received your welcome postal and it makes me happy to read it.\n     I am now ready to go to my fate. I pray every night and day for\n     God to forgive me. I put my whole trust in Him. Pray for me that\n     God will wash my sins away and receive me in heaven. As I expect\n     God to forgive me I forgive and love everybody. Think of me when\n     I am gone. I wish you could pray with me before I go on my long\n     journey, for I love to hear you pray. Good-bye.\n\n     From your penitent brother in Christ.\n                                                            A. T.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                             Jail, June 23, 1887.\n\n     Dear Sister in Christ:\n\n     My time on this earth is now very short (but seven days) and I am\n     now ready to go to my Father, whom I trust and pray will forgive\n     me my crime and receive me in his heavenly home. I pray every\n     hour in the day and, my dear sister, do the same for me that my\n     sins may be washed away in His blood. Pray that He may give me\n     everlasting life. O, if I could but live my life over again, how\n     I would pray and put all my trust in Him. Dear sister, this may\n     be the last time you may hear from me on this earth, but I hope\n     we may meet in heaven. Good-bye, God bless you and your noble\n     work.\n\n                    Yours waiting to go to his Savior,\n                                                            A. T.\n\n     May God forgive me.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                          L., Ky., June 25, 1887.\n\n     Dear Sister in Christ:\n\n     If you only knew how much a poor sinner like me needs the prayers\n     of such Christians and lovers of God and His Word as you are, you\n     would pray both night and day that He will receive me in his\n     heavenly home, where there is no sin or sorrow, but where all is\n     love and peace. I have now but five short days until all that is\n     of the world will be consigned to the tomb and I do so pray night\n     and day that Jesus will cleanse me of my sins. I think this will\n     be the last time you will hear from me on this earth and when I\n     go to eternity I do so praising God, forgiving my enemies, firm\n     in faith and the belief that my sins are washed away in the blood\n     of Jesus. Good-bye. May we meet in heaven.\n\n                                                            A. T.\n\nIn 1888 I visited a county jail so crowded with prisoners that I\nwondered how they could live in that poorly ventilated, filthy prison.\nThey had little to eat and evidently no one to care for them. There\nwere Indians, Mexicans, white and colored all together. There I found\nTEN MEN UNDER DEATH SENTENCE; and I was convinced that several were\ninnocent of the charges laid against them--being condemned by\ncircumstantial evidence. Those ten condemned men were made the subject\nof constant, earnest prayer. O, if judges and jurymen could only know\nwhat eternal destinies hang upon their decisions, surely they would be\nless ready to condemn on less than positive evidence. Several of the\nten were executed--among them the writer of the following letter:\n\n                                             ----, April 2, 1888.\n\n     My Dear Sister:\n\n     We received your postal. I was so glad to receive it from those\n     who love my soul. I have not forgotten one word you left with me.\n     Jesus Christ is the subject of my day talk and night dreams. I\n     remember you when I get down on my knees to pray. I pray for the\n     Lord's will to be done with me as it is done in heaven. I have\n     forsaken the world for Jesus' sake. His love is shed abroad in my\n     heart. Myself and Brothers W. and A. (whose sentences have been\n     changed) are still serving God--also Brother S. I could not tell\n     you how it is with the other boys, but I talk to them every day.\n     Brothers W., A., and S. join with me in sending their love to\n     you. God bless you. I am your brother in Christ.\n\n                                                        ---- ----\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                            April 26, A. D. 1888.\n\n     Sister Elizabeth R. Wheaton. My Dear Sister in Jesus Christ:\n\n     My days have been numbered here on earth by man, but there is no\n     end to the number of days that my God has promised me in\n     heaven--no more a prisoner here on earth, but to live with our\n     Lord forevermore. Let not your heart be troubled about me, for\n     all is well! Yes, indeed, all is well. The love of Christ will\n     bear me home. Jesus Christ is in me and I am in Him. In God I\n     trust, in Him I die. I could not tell you how the case is with\n     the other boys, but I do know for myself I am ready at any time.\n     My dear sister, I have sent the lovely handkerchief you gave me\n     home to my old mother. I told mother who gave it to me and for\n     her to place it in my Bible and put it in her trunk and then I\n     said: \"Here is a picture of mine and a lock of hair for my poor,\n     old mother and sisters and brothers.\" I leave a mother, four\n     sisters and two brothers. If you wish sometime to write to my\n     mother her address is ---- ----. Farewell until we meet again. I\n     am your brother in Jesus Christ,\n\n                                                        ---- ----\n\n\n                    CONVERSION OF A JEWISH BOY.\n\nIn the same year, I found in one of the prisons of California, a young\nJew under sentence of death. While under the influence of drink, he\nshot the girl he truly loved. He never realized it till he became\nsober and found himself in prison. Naturally he was surprised and\ngreatly shocked. Wondering why he was there, and being told of his\ncrime, he was overwhelmed with grief, and remorse of conscience. Poor\nboy! His was a sad ending. He was so grief-stricken! And yet the\ncourts were against him, and the world at large, for the sin was\npronounced murder in the first degree and he must die--_a boy in his\nteens_.\n\nAs I looked through the grating at the poor doomed boy, an old\ngentleman spoke to me and said something very unkind about him. The\nboy said, \"That man is a _hypocrite_. But I like those hymns you sang.\n_Won't you sing for me?_\" So I sang for him, and he requested me not\nto talk to him then. So I said, \"Can I come and see you again?\" \"_Oh,\nyes, come again, do.\"_ This poor boy was one of the lost ones, and\nJesus touched his heart while I sang, \"Meet me there.\" This was from\nthat time on his favorite hymn, and I sang it for him just before he\nwent to the scaffold.\n\nI went back and forth from San Francisco to other places for six\nweeks, but his case lay very heavy upon my heart. I knew that on the\n14th of September he was to go, and that worse still, he was in danger\nof eternal death. I pleaded and wept for him day and night, that he\nmight be brought to see his lost condition and his need of Christ and\nyield to God. How I bless God that He hears and answers prayer! \"If\nany man see his brother sin a sin which is not unto death, he shall\nask, and he shall give him life for them that sin not unto death.\"--1\nJohn 5:16.\n\nBefore his conversion I received from him the following letters,\nbeautifully and correctly written:\n\n                                     San Francisco, Aug. 9, 1888.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth Wheaton:\n\n     As to religion I do not profess any creed. I do not mean by the\n     above that I hate them--on the contrary, I love religion and hate\n     hypocrisy. I am not an atheist and must admit that I believe in a\n     true, just and most merciful God. I appreciate your visits very\n     much and hope you will call to see me as often as opportunity\n     and convenience will allow, so I now close this brief epistle by\n     sending kindest regards and best wishes. I am\n\n                                               Respectfully,\n                                                       ---- ----.\n\n     \"Condemned Cell.\"\n\n     P. S.--Kind thanks for singing.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                    San Francisco, Sept. 7, 1888.\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton:\n\n     I am pleased that you called to see me and hope you will repeat\n     your visits. It grieves me to see you shed tears, and although I\n     say nothing, remember that \"still water runs deep.\" I have faith\n     and believe in prayer, so I believe that the cause of a condemned\n     boy will be heard in heaven and will come to pass. I am not\n     allowed to shake hands, much less give my mother a comforting\n     kiss. I now end by thanking you very kindly for your kindness and\n     consideration to me.\n\n                            I am, respectfully,\n                                                       ---- ----.\n\nI went, the day before the execution, to see him. No one was allowed\nto go inside the doomed boy's cell, so I was compelled to submit to\nthe law. The sheriff said positively, \"No, you cannot go inside.\" But\nthe chief jailer said, \"I promised that this lady should go inside the\nboy's cell before the execution, and I must keep my word. I will go in\nwith her.\" He opened the door and we went in. He was a grand man.\nMyself and the sister who was with me prayed for the prisoner's\nsalvation. We sang and read and prayed, and at last the presence of\nthe Holy Spirit seemed to fill the gloomy little cell, and to touch\nthe poor boy kneeling there with the shackles on his limbs. (They\nfrequently put shackles on some days before the execution, and place\nthem in the \"doomed cell.\") We kept on praying and singing and at\nlast the light came into his heart, and God owned him as His child.\n\nOn the morning of the execution, I went early to the prison; and as I\nhurried along there met me a young Catholic priest, who was our mutual\nfriend, and very kind. He said, \"_Come quickly, the boy wants you._ He\nhas called for you all night, and they could not find you, so they\ncame for me. I have been waiting for you.\" This priest had labored\nwith me to convince the poor boy that Jesus was the Christ and that He\nalone could save him. I hurried on into the prison for my last\ngreeting on earth with the poor condemned boy. There was no loud\ndemonstration--he was going to die, and knew it; but he felt that he\nwas ready. He said to me: \"I can hardly wait the hour to go home. I am\nwilling and ready to die. O sing for me my favorite songs. I wish you\ncould go with me to the scaffold, but that is against the law for\nwomen to go to the execution in this state.\" Mothers could not endure\nsuch things, but I feel, when permitted, as if I must stay till all is\nover.\n\nI took a white silk handkerchief and gently folded it around the boy's\nneck, and said, \"I think the rope won't hurt so bad, and the pain\nwon't be so severe with this around your neck.\" I shall never forget\nthe grateful look on his face, as he smilingly thanked me. He was a\nvery refined young man, and only for whiskey he might be living yet.\nAs I bade him good-bye he said, \"Please sing for me _once more_ before\nI go.\" I sang and passed out among the crowds of people. I seemed to\nbe lifted above the things of earth--I was so thankful for his\nsalvation. Reader, do you know what it is to travail for a soul and\nthen count the hours and moments till you see them go over the river\nof death, and by-and-by with the eye of faith see them enter the\npearly gates into the presence of Him who was crucified for them?\n\nAfter the execution I received the following kind letter from the\nyoung priest to whom I have referred:\n\n                                    San Francisco, Oct. 13, 1888.\n\n     Dear Madam:\n\n     It was with great pleasure I read your kind and welcome note. I\n     thank you very much for your pleasant remembrance and hope that\n     God will bless your efforts and sacrifices on behalf of the poor\n     prisoners.\n\n     In regard to A., I can say that he was resigned to the last and\n     died well prepared, in my opinion. I was with him almost\n     constantly during the last twelve hours. I think his family\n     placed the silk handkerchief in the coffin with him.\n\n     Please give my regards to your kind companion and say sometimes a\n     little prayer for me. I hope to see you soon in San Francisco and\n     have the pleasure of renewing my acquaintance. I have the honor\n     of remaining,\n\n                                 Yours truly in Jesus Christ,\n                                                Rev. N---- F----.\n\n\n                           MYSTERIOUSLY GUIDED.\n\nIn April, 1891, I was in Kansas City, Mo. After waiting upon the Lord\nfor some days asking Him where He would have me go next I was\nimpressed to go to the depot and that there it would be shown me what\nI must do. I did so, but even then was left for several hours in\nuncertainty as to what train to take, as I had passes on four\ndifferent lines. I spent the time in earnest prayer. At last, toward\nevening, I was led to take the Rock Island train for Chicago and\nimpressed that the Lord would show me when and where to stop. I had\ntwo sisters and a little boy with me and they could not understand my\nindecision.\n\nAs our train hurried on during the night, I kept asking the Lord where\nI should stop, and He made it very plain to me that I was to stop at\nOttawa, Ill. I knew no one there, and there was no state-prison there,\nbut the Lord showed me to go to the county jail and when I did so\nfound there were several men there soon to be executed. I was told\nthat no one was permitted to see them; but we went praying and the\nLord touched the hearts of the officers and we were permitted to hold\na service. We were much helped of the Holy Spirit and I believe some\nof these condemned men were saved--at least they seemed to give\nevidence of it. One of them afterwards wrote me two letters. These I\ngive to my readers. It is well to remember, however, that not many\nsuch prisoners are accustomed to expressing their thoughts in writing\nand hence their letters fail to express the depth of feeling clearly\nshown in their words and manner when I am with them. Again all their\nletters are to be read before they leave the prison, so they do not\nopen their hearts as freely when writing as when speaking with me\nalone.\n\n                                            La Salle County Jail,\n                                    Ottawa, Ill., April 28, 1891.\n\n     Elizabeth R. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Sister: We are doing very well. As for Mr. C. and myself, we\n     will do the best we can to reach that Beautiful home in the New\n     Jerusalem, for the Lord saith: \"He that believeth and abideth in\n     Me shall have everlasting life.\" As you must have seen, our\n     belief is a little different from yours in some respects, but,\n     nevertheless, we are all working for that one place and that is\n     heaven. He that leaveth his sins behind him shall be saved. The\n     example of those who died for Christ, for the faith and for\n     virtue's sake are also continually placed before us that we may\n     learn to endure sufferings and even death rather than be\n     unfaithful to God and stain our conscience with sin. The\n     Christian's motto is, \"Death before dishonor.\" Hoping that you\n     will continue to pray for us that we may be cleansed from sin and\n     be saved, we send you our sincere and hearty wishes for your\n     welfare. God bless you and keep you ever for your sincere effort\n     in our behalf. Hoping that we may meet in that beautiful place\n     where the penitent shall find rest, I remain yours in respect,\n\n                                                    CHARLIE ----.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                 La Salle County Jail, Ottawa, Ill., May 6, 1891.\n\n     Dear Sister:\n\n     I was glad to receive your letter and to hear that you are still\n     praying for us. Mr. F. has gone out, so there are just two of\n     us--me and Mr. C., who, I think, will get a new trial. He sends\n     his kind regards and is doing well.\n\n     As for me, I am very close to the grave as I have only four more\n     days to live, but hope that it will be all for the best. I am\n     preparing myself for death as much as possible for so short a\n     time. My thoughts are not of the outside world, but of a higher\n     world, where there is no sin or trouble or care, but everylasting\n     life and happiness. I also hope that we may meet in that haven of\n     rest. I will do as you say, put my trust in God and believe in\n     Him. Life is very short at best, but we all have our cares and\n     troubles and must bear with them the best we can, as we are\n     helpless without the grace of God. Thanking you sincerely for\n     your kind efforts in our behalf, I remain your brother in all\n     sincerity. Farewell.\n\n                                           Yours in respect,\n                                                    CHARLIE ----.\n\n\n                          IN LONG EXPECTATION.\n\nI first saw E. B---- in the jail in Wichita, Kansas. There were many\nprisoners there at that time and especially in the Oklahoma ward. It\nwas soon after the opening up of Oklahoma territory and the rush for\nclaims. There was great excitement and many lost their lives. Some\nwere thrown from their horses and killed. Others died from exhaustion,\nrunning as for life to get the property they so much coveted. There\nwere many things done that were wrong. Some are still lingering inside\nprison walls for \"defending their rights\" as they thought. I do not\nremember just what E.'s trouble was, but he was sentenced to death\nand the day and the hour were set. I went often to the prison and sang\nand prayed for the prisoners. They were my friends. I knew and loved\nthem as a mother would, and especially this young boy--the youngest of\nthem all.\n\nI went away to Europe and on my return I again visited the jail in\nWichita to hold a service. While singing the first hymn the jailer\ncame into the apartment where I was and said, \"The Oklahoma boys have\nheard you singing and want you to come at once to their ward. They did\nnot know you had returned from Scotland and are so anxious to see\nyou.\" And such a welcome as those dear boys and men gave me I had\nreceived no where else since my return. Some were under death\nsentences. O how my heart aches even now as I think of the tears they\nshed and of their warm handclasp. Then I could only fall on my knees\nand sob out my sorrow for them and my heartfelt thanks to God for the\nwarm welcome and as I wept and prayed I believe good was accomplished\nand souls saved. Some are dead and gone. Others are in the asylum for\nthe criminal insane. A few were pardoned out. Eddie's case lingered.\nWhile hoping for a commutation of sentence he wrote the following\nletter:\n\n                                            Wichita, May 3, 1891.\n\n     Dear Friend:\n\n     I received your kind letter. Was glad to hear you were well and\n     still at your post, working for others. I am still in my little\n     cell awaiting what comes and have not heard much yet regarding\n     commitment, but hope it may come in time. I am feeling as though\n     I have a heavy load on my shoulders for a boy, but I hope and\n     pray for the best to come. I want to see the light, if there is\n     any for me. I sometimes think that I am forgotten; and then again\n     I know better, for there is One who never forgets us. I have\n     read those nice tracts you sent me and they are all true. The\n     boys are all well and send their best respects to you and hope to\n     meet you again; and you know I do, for I feel the need of your\n     kindness and appreciate it highly. I know what a kind mother is.\n     I have a good Christian mother and father. Oh, if I were only\n     free again, so I could enjoy life with my dear mother! No one\n     knows how lonely I am. You are only one hundred miles from my\n     home in ----, Illinois. If you go there you could find them by\n     enquiring for them. They would be glad to see you, as I have told\n     them about your being here. I hope some day that you can come and\n     see me on the outside. What a happy boy I would be! If not, I\n     hope we may meet in that brighter home. I have been reading my\n     Bible and find relief. What a book it is, and the good that can\n     be gotten from it! I wish you success through life and that you\n     may save many a poor lost sinner. No one knows the good they can\n     do until they try.\n\n     May God bless you, is my prayer.\n                                                      EDDIE ----.\n\n\n                           SENTENCE COMMUTED.\n\nMany of those acquainted with the case were anxious for his release\nbut met with little encouragement. I continued to pray earnestly that\nat least his life might be spared. When the day appointed for his\nexecution came I was in a distant state some miles from a telegraph\noffice, but I sent a little boy to the office with a message telling\nhim that the Lord might even yet deliver him and if not would sustain\nhim in his dying moments. The same day a wire came for him from the\ngovernor changing his sentence to imprisonment for life. He was\ntransferred to a northern prison, but only lived a few years. So far\nas I could learn he lived and died a Christian, and I hope to see him\nagain by and by in heaven.\n\n\n                            A MAN DECEIVED.\n\nAt one time I held a service with the prisoners in the county jail in\nSedalia, Missouri. Among them was a poor old man awaiting execution.\nHe seemed unmoved, stolid, indifferent. I talked and prayed with him\nand asked him about his soul's salvation. He said it was all right\nwith his soul and that he was saved. I knew the Lord showed me that he\nwas a deceived man and that the devil had deluded him into thinking he\nwas all right. I was faithful to my convictions, to my God and to his\nsoul. I said to him: \"You are not prepared to face the scaffold and\ndeath.\" He seemed indignant that I should doubt his word, but I left\nhim with the warning, \"Prepare to meet thy God.\"\n\nI went to the wife of the sheriff, who was an excellent woman, and\nfound she too was very anxious about his soul. I told her of my burden\nfor him and asked for a room where I could wait on God in prayer and\nshe kindly furnished it. In an hour the old man sent word to the\nsheriff to send for me to come and pray for him as he was not fit to\ndie. In company with others I went to him and the poor deceived old\nman repented of his sins and confessed them to God and to us and was\nblessedly saved and died in the full assurance of faith. His last\nwords were of his hope in Christ and of his acceptance with God. I\nfully believe that the blood of Jesus--who died on the cross for\nsinners and was the friend of sinners always--did cleanse his soul.\nThe sheriff's wife told me of his last words and that all was well. We\ngive a clipping from a Sedalia paper concerning the case.\n\n                          VISITORS EXCLUDED.\n\n        WILLIAMSON WILL RECEIVE NO MORE VISITS--PREPARATION FOR THE\n                               EXECUTION.\n\n     Sheriff Ellis R. Smith has commenced to make his arrangements for\n     the execution of Thomas A. Williamson, and everything will be in\n     readiness before Saturday morning. The rope with which John Oscar\n     Turlington and Bill Price were hanged will be used, the sheriff\n     having received a telegram yesterday from Sheriff Mat S. Ayers,\n     of Saline county, stating that it had been forwarded to him by\n     express. On the day of execution the police force will assist the\n     county authorities in preserving order in the vicinity of the\n     jail building.\n\n     No more visitors will be permitted to see and talk with\n     Williamson, except his spiritual advisers. This is in compliance\n     with the condemned man's wishes, which are contained in the\n     following note which he sent to Sheriff Smith yesterday:\n\n     \"Sheriff Smith: I would like a cell by myself the rest of my\n     time. You can put me any place. I will give you no trouble. My\n     mind is on God. I would like to be upstairs; it is lighter up\n     there. I will go where you put me.\n\n                                                        T. A. W.\"\n\nI received from him the following letters written after his\nconversion. One of them reached me after his execution:\n\n                                                     Sedalia, Mo.\n\n     Sister Elizabeth R. Wheaton:\n\n     I am well this morning. I thank God for it. I hope this will find\n     you well. I prayed to God to watch over me through the night, and\n     He did. I feel happy. I will meet you across the river. We will\n     have a good time. May God keep you. I am going to heaven. I will\n     meet you in that bright land. I am glad to hear from you.\n\n                                                         THOS. A.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Sedalia, Mo., October 29, 1891.\n\n     My True Mother:\n\n     I got your letter right now. I read it and got on my knees and\n     prayed to God to have mercy on me. My sister, I have my mind on\n     Jesus all the time. I feel happy this morning. Mother, I will\n     meet you on the other shore. Mother S. (the sheriff's wife) is so\n     kind to me! My mind is on God so I can hardly write. I will pray\n     for you.\n\n                                                         THOS. A.\n\n\n                INTERCEDED FOR THE LIFE OF A BOY.\n\nI went to a city in 1898, where there were four under sentence of\ndeath, and when I went into the jail found many waiting trial. Some\nwere going to state's prison. Others were to die on the scaffold. I\nwas especially impressed with the case of one boy who was under death\nsentence. I held a service with the prisoners and talked personally to\nthose condemned to die. One man was wonderfully saved and I believe\nwent to heaven from the scaffold. I then went away to other states.\nBut I was so troubled I made inquiries and found that the young boy to\nwhom I referred _was not charged with being a murderer_, and was not\ndeserving of death. I plead to God if there was nothing the law could\nfind in him worthy of death, that his sentence might be commuted, and\nthe poor boy might live. Upon my return I went to the capital to see\nthe Governor, and asked him to grant the boy a life sentence in\nprison. My request was granted, it was soon all settled and the boy's\nlife was spared. Yet the Deputy Sheriff was very angry at the Governor\nfor granting the commutation!\n\n\n                    WENT TO THE SCAFFOLD SINGING.\n\nIn May, 1899, another poor prisoner ended his life on the scaffold.\nThe Friday before, two died on the same gallows. I visited them the\nday before the execution, talked and sang hymns (their favorites), and\nthen we three kneeled together in prayer in the little \"condemned\ncell.\" Kneeling between my boys, clasping each by the hand, we gave\nourselves to the blessed Savior, who said just before he expired on\nthe cross, \"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.\" I\nshall never forget that last prayer meeting with those unfortunate men\nwho had been led astray by evil surroundings and associations, forming\nhabits which finally sent them to early graves, by fearful deaths.\nYet, as we knelt there together, just we three and the blessed Holy\nSpirit witnessing, we promised to meet in Heaven. Jesus met us there\nand forgave them their sins, and joy filled our souls with love for\nHim who gave Himself a ransom for us, not willing that any should\nperish, but rather that all should have eternal life. How my heart\nrejoiced to hear them say they were prepared to go, and the parting\nwas very sweet. A solemn hush filled the little cell--sweet peace\nwhich only comes when souls have been redeemed, fell upon my heart,\nand I was glad Jesus Himself did His own work for His own name's honor\nand glory. They sang hymns and prayed all night before the execution.\nThey refused to eat, preferring to sing and pray till the last, and\nwent to the scaffold singing and praising God, and were still singing\nwhen the drop fell, and they were gone from earth.\n\nMy heart cried out for the living that May morning, as another one\nwent to the scaffold, \"O God, save his soul! O God, forgive him all\nhis sins. The same scaffold, the same sin, and the same Jesus to blot\nout all his transgressions.\" I believe God, where he says, Isa. 1:18,\n\"Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow:\nthough they be red like crimson they shall be as wool.\" If it were not\nfor the promises of God in His blessed Word, I should give up in\ndespair, sometimes, over those cases who have been so deceived by the\ndevil. Yet God is able to snatch them as brands from the burning. Jude\n22-23 says, \"And of some have compassion, making a difference: and\nothers save with fear, pulling them out of the fire; hating even the\ngarment spotted by the flesh.\" Jesus said, \"Whosoever will may come,\"\nI believe His promises are \"Yea and amen to all that believe.\" When I\nsee what saloons and other evils are doing to wreck lives and ruin\nsouls, I wonder how God on His throne can ever forgive such\npremeditated, intentional sins. The keepers of these places sell\nthemselves to Satan to be used by him to defeat God's plan of saving\nthose who will come unto Him. O that all who claim to be Christians\nwould unite to overthrow the means that Satan uses to lead down to\neternal death so many precious souls!\n\nThe case to which I shall now refer was one in many respects\nespecially touching. The condemned man had occupied _a prominent\nofficial position_. The dear, noble wife never turned away from her\nhusband. Hers were the kind heart and hands that ministered to his\nneeds and cheered the long, gloomy hours of his imprisonment. She\nstood by him in his trial and during those days of agony and suspense.\nThen came the verdict \"Guilty,\" and the sentence of death! Yet, though\nher own heart was breaking as she thought of herself and her\nbeautiful, helpless children, she still sought to cheer and comfort as\nbest she could that poor condemned man whose heart was torn with\nanguish when he realized that because of his sin that faithful loving\nwife and those innocent children must be left disgraced and destitute.\nWhat is to become of the little ones who are powerless to help\nthemselves and of the poor despised, rejected, forsaken mother, trying\nto earn with her own hands by toiling night and day enough to feed and\nclothe those helpless babes? O my God, will you not help me to provide\na home for such as these? For the sake of these heart-broken mothers\nwhose lives are doomed to be (only as helped by the grace of God) one\ngreat unending sorrow--for the sake of the poor children so cruelly\nrobbed of their birthright--a father's good name and protection, these\nwho are worse than orphans, yet for whom nobody seems to care, help\nme to do what I can--what thou dost require at my hands. This man was\nbrought up in a Christian home and but for the power of evil\nassociations with which he was brought in contact and the curse of the\nlegalized saloon, would today in all probability have been a respected\nand honorable member of society.\n\nI first found him one Fourth of July. While others were spending the\nholiday I went toiling through the heat to the prison and there I\nfound my reward. My soul was borne upward by the Holy Spirit as I sang\nmany songs of praise and tenderly led this poor man to the foot of the\ncross where he was saved. His wife was there a part of the time. I\nseem to see the parting even now of those dear ones! Well, God knows\nit all. Had I never known a wife's and a mother's love I could not\nhave sympathized with them as I did. I thought--What if _my_ boy had\nlived and come to such an end--and I wept with that faithful wife as\nshe took leave. O, sisters, there is a power in even a look of love\ncoming from a true heart.\n\nI give two letters received from the condemned man and one written me\nby his wife. I omit the name of place and exact date and even the\ninitials, as so few years have passed and I do not wish to do anything\nthat might bring pain to the hearts of surviving friends. The family\nwas of the most cultured and respected.\n\n                                                      July, 1899.\n\n     Dear Sister Wheaton:\n\n     It was with the greatest pleasure that I read your card this\n     morning. I was wondering where you were; but I knew that if your\n     health permitted you, you were somewhere doing good to some poor\n     unfortunate.\n\n     Yes, I am putting my entire trust in Jesus. He saves me from my\n     sins and when the cares and woes of this life come to disturb my\n     peace, I look unto the Savior and soon all is peace again. What\n     would I do in a place like this and under such circumstances did\n     not his gentle voice speak unto me and say, \"Fear not, I will not\n     leave nor forsake you.\" My wife was down to see me last Monday,\n     and is coming today (Thursday). She wrote me that your songs and\n     prayer were still ringing in her ears--so you see that your good\n     work is not only felt by prisoners. I hope that you may be able\n     to go on with the good work that so much delights you and that\n     you may yet win many wandering souls and bring them into the fold\n     of God and that when your work on earth is ended you may rest\n     from your labors in the most beautiful palace in the city of\n     heaven. You may think that strange that I said \"palace,\" but I\n     believe that heaven is a real and tangible city--the home of God,\n     from where He sends the Holy Ghost to dwell in the hearts of all\n     those who are willing to receive Him.\n\n     I will now say good-by, and if I never again meet you on this\n     earth, I hope to meet you in heaven.\n\n     I am yours most sincerely in the hope of heaven.\n\n                                                       ---- ----.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                                    August, 1899.\n\n     My Dear Mother, for such you seem to me, I will never while I am\n     on this earth cease to think of you. I have remembered your voice\n     since I first heard you sing and pray while in the cells of poor\n     W----and S----, the condemned men. I wished then that I could\n     have seen you, and I told the boys that you were certainly born\n     of God; and from that day I have desired to have your influence\n     and prayers. I am still trusting in the love, mercy and power of\n     the Savior to save my soul in the eternal world and to keep me\n     from sin while I am in this. I have no other hope, no other\n     desire than to serve my Master. I would want to attain to a state\n     of perfection here, if such were possible, but you know that the\n     cares of this life come in to rob us of the pleasure that we\n     would enjoy in the anticipation of heaven. But some day the dark\n     clouds that overshadow us and prevent us for a while from seeing\n     the Savior's smiling face will be rolled away. I am glad to tell\n     you that the sentence of R----, whose cell was next to mine, has\n     been commuted to life imprisonment. He and the man P---- send\n     their regards to you. P----'s sentence is respited until the\n     17th of November, and in the meantime he hopes for a new trial.\n\n     I will close, wishing you the choicest blessings of heaven, and I\n     am yours very sincerely, trusting in the hope of eternal life,\n\n                                      Your brother in Christ,\n                                                       ---- ----.\n\nThe following from the _Star_ of ----, ----, explains itself. The men\nare referred to in the above letter:\n\n              BOTH TWICE CONVICTED OF THE CRIME OF MURDER.\n\n     Everything is in readiness at the District jail for the double\n     execution which is to take place tomorrow, when S---- and W----\n     will pay the penalty of their crimes. So far as outward\n     appearances are concerned, the condemned men are in a better\n     frame of mind than are most of the other prisoners in the big\n     brown-stone prison. Their spiritual advisers are with them most\n     of the time, and when they are absent the men pass the hours\n     reading religious books and praying.\n\n     S---- and W---- have both been well-behaved prisoners and have\n     given the jail officials no trouble whatever. The former has been\n     particularly friendly with the guards and others, and today he\n     thanked several of them for past kindnesses. He also desired to\n     express his gratitude to his many friends for what they had done\n     for him, and said he desired to do so through the _Star_. S----\n     has had many visitors during the entire time of his confinement\n     in jail, but more especially during recent weeks. Most of them\n     have been female relatives. They have been endeavoring to collect\n     funds enough to defray the expenses of a decent burial. In the\n     event of their being successful the body will be turned over to\n     them after the execution by the undertaker employed by the\n     government to prepare the bodies for burial.\n\n     Monday afternoon, just before the prison doors were locked for\n     the day, the bell rang and the guard at the door admitted a woman\n     who handed in her card on which was printed:\n\n                      \"Elizabeth Rider Wheaton,\n                         \"Prison Evangelist.\n                       \"No Home but Heaven.\"\n\n     She had with her a number of tracts which she distributed to some\n     of the prisoners. Her religious work is all done in prisons, and\n     she makes a specialty of laboring with condemned men. She stated\n     to the guards that she had traveled about 2,000 miles to see\n     those in jail here before their execution. The warden admitted\n     her to the cells. She had W---- and S---- join her in prayer and\n     song in the latter's cell, and the men seemed greatly to\n     appreciate her hour's visit. She next saw E---- S----, who is to\n     die on the scaffold next week. He, too, appeared to enjoy her\n     call.\n\n                                                        ---- ----\n     _Star_.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                                    August, 1899.\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton.\n\n     My Dear Sister: I must write a few lines to you, in my husband's\n     letter, as you have shown yourself so kind to him, poor fellow. I\n     can see you now and hear you, in my fancy, singing those\n     beautiful pieces. Oh, how sad I felt on that Fourth of July as I\n     sat and listened, especially to the one called \"Some Mother's\n     Child,\" as I looked upon my dear husband and thought of his\n     mother and how tenderly he had been reared by Christian parents,\n     and was always a good and thoughtful son and husband until by\n     reason of evil associations he fell into sin and kept going\n     further and further from God until at last he was led to do the\n     most dreadful of deeds. How I pity him!\n\n     O how happy I once was! Had a pretty home and everything to\n     brighten it. But alas, they have vanished and now I feel alone,\n     without anything. Did I say \"alone?\" No, not so, for the God that\n     I have served and who has been with me these twenty years, is\n     still with me; and I feel to say, \"Though he slay me, yet will I\n     trust him.\" I feel that he will open up a way for his children.\n     Now, my dear sister, I would love to see you again in this life\n     and talk with you, but if I never meet you here I trust I shall\n     meet you above, where your voice will be heard with the angels of\n     God. Please remember me to your lady helper. Would be glad to\n     hear from you at any time. Good-bye.\n\n     Yours in love and the hope of heaven,\n                                                       ---- ----.\n\nTwo years later, while in the same city, a friend invited me to go to\nan open-air service and after I had sung and spoken to those who were\ngathered a dear lady clasped my hand and said: \"I am so glad to see\nyou, mother--don't you know me?\" As I failed to recognize her she\nturned her careworn but lovely face so that the electric light shone\nfull upon her and said, \"Don't you remember me now?\" When I still\nanswered \"No, I do not,\" the tears gathered in the dear eyes as she\nsaid, \"My husband never forgot your singing and your prayers before he\nwent away,\" and then it dawned upon me that she was the wife of the\nman the people hung to gratify the saloon men's greed. She said: \"I do\nwish I could ask you home with me, but I have only a little hall room\nfor myself and children. I am keeping boarders to make a living for\nmyself and them.\" O how I wished for a home to which I could welcome\nthem, but I, too, am a pilgrim and a stranger, and all I could do was\nto kiss the dear sister and commend her to the widow's God and her\ndear ones to the Father of the fatherless.\n\nThe letters following are from two brothers with whom I labored, and\nwho showed much appreciation of my efforts with them and professed to\nbe saved. I received a number of encouraging letters from them and\nfrom others in the same place before they were taken away. We can not\nalways tell as to the sincerity of these poor men, or of their\nresponsibility, some of them doubtless are so nearly unbalanced in\nmind, under such a strain, but we know the God of heaven before whom\nwe must all stand will judge righteously.\n\n                                                October 18, 1903.\n\n     My Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     While my dear unfortunate brother, Mr. K., has given me space in\n     his letter, I just wish to congratulate you for the wonderful\n     good you did while here with us, as we have not forgotten your\n     topic, \"Salvation,\" and often speak of you and hope you will\n     come again at your earliest convenience. Thank God there is some\n     of us have the Spirit of God with us. Bless His holy name! And I\n     for one can praise Him for the wonderful good He has done me, and\n     through His wonderful love I have been granted a stay of\n     execution, which was to take place the 21st of this month; for\n     God in heaven knows I am innocent of this crime, as is also my\n     brother. I am sorry to say I do not know much about the Bible,\n     but intend to learn more about His wonderful love to man, and\n     will serve Him to the end. Trusting that you will look upon us as\n     your children, I will close, hoping to hear from you again,\n\n                                         Your unfortunate boy,\n                                                            B. W.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     Received your letter and was glad to hear from you. It brought\n     great joy to our bleeding hearts. We think of you and wish you\n     could talk and sing for us every day. Your kind, loving words\n     bring me near to God. When I leave this world I will go to my\n     heavenly Father, where there is everlasting life, and if we never\n     meet on earth, I will meet you in heaven. I shall never forget\n     you and the prayer you made for me. We felt bad when you could\n     not come back and tell us about our loving God. Pray for me that\n     I may walk daily with God. I remain as ever,\n\n                                             Your dear boy,\n                                                            A. W.\n\n     Columbus, Ohio.\n\n\n                           THREE YOUNG MEN.\n\nSome cases of special interest to me because of such recent\noccurrence, are the three young men mentioned elsewhere and from whom\nI received the following letters. I will first give a note very kindly\nwritten me by the son of the warden, in answer to an inquiry about the\ncases while they were awaiting some decision of the supreme court:\n\n                     Colorado State Penitentiary.\n                             Canon City, Colo., December 7, 1904.\n\n     Mother E. R. Wheaton. Tabor, Iowa.\n\n     Dear Mother: I have not answered your postal on account of my\n     absence from the city, but I hope you will overlook the delay.\n     The fate of the four prisoners under sentence of death is still\n     undecided, as their case is in the hands of the Supreme Court.\n     There is some doubt as to the legality of the law and it is a\n     hard matter to tell what the outcome will be. No, my folks did\n     not attend the Prison Congress this year on account of my\n     sister's health. The boys at the prison often speak of you and\n     some have started to forget the past and try to do better in the\n     future on account of the good words you spoke to them. I hope you\n     will come to see us before my father goes out of office, but if\n     this is impossible, I pray that we may meet at some future time.\n     I remain,\n\n                                          Yours respectfully,\n                                                Willard Cleghorn.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Canon City, Colo., May 3, 1904.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     I have received your kind letter and postal and I am very glad to\n     know that you have not forgotten me. I have not forgotten you\n     either, nor never will. For it was no other than you who put me\n     on the right road to heaven, and I know that if I do all you told\n     me that I will meet you there. I am praying both day and night,\n     and I pray from my heart, and mean every word that I say, and I\n     know that my sorrow is more than I can bear without God's help. I\n     know that God has forgiven me all of my sins, and will save me\n     too. I do not care who laughs at me for praying and asking God\n     for help. There is nothing that can ever make me quit praying and\n     believing in God, for He has done me good already.\n\n     With love and best wishes, and hoping to hear from you soon,\n\n                                     Yours sincerely,\n                                                            F. A.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Canon City, Colo., May 3, 1904.\n\n     Dear Mrs. Wheaton.\n\n     It is with pleasure that I answer your most kind and welcome\n     letter that brother A. and I received some time ago. We also\n     received a postal card this morning. I have neglected my promise\n     of writing, but hereafter will write more promptly. I have not\n     been feeling well, but am better now. I hope you will forgive me\n     this time.\n\n     It does my heart good to know that you are praying for us. I feel\n     very grateful to you. Us boys pray and read the Holy Bible every\n     day. I am trusting to our Heavenly Father, for He makes right the\n     wrong. We are being treated most kindly by the warden and the\n     officers of the prison.\n\n     I will close, as Brother A. wishes to say a few words.\n\n     Hoping to hear from you again, I ever remain\n\n                                           Your son in Christ,\n                                                               C.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Canon City, Colo., May 17, 1904.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton.\n\n     My Dear Mother: I received your kind letter and was very much\n     pleased to hear from you, as all of us were. * * *\n\n     When I saw and read your letter and those little tracts, they\n     certainly did take effect on me. As I read them and saw the\n     terrible mistake I had made, it caused the tears to fall. I am\n     trusting in God, but I can't come right out and tell you that I\n     am really saved, for I don't believe in deceiving you. But I do\n     believe that God has laid a hand on me, and I hope He will take a\n     stronger hold on me. I know you will think more of me for telling\n     you the candid facts. I have seen lots of people who would tell\n     that they were really saved, when they knew they were not. But\n     \"God help my poor soul,\" is my regular prayer. I realize that I\n     need His help in my present circumstances. I still ask you to\n     pray for me that God will help me to look to Him. I try my best\n     to do what is right, and never go to sleep a night without\n     praying to Him to save my soul and spare me so that I may be of\n     some benefit to His cause, and I do fully believe that He will\n     answer my prayer, for when I pray I am sure I do it with all my\n     heart and soul.\n\n     I am quite well at present, and hope that these few lines will\n     find you the same. May God bless you and protect you, is my daily\n     prayer. I hope to hear from you again soon.\n\n     From one of yours, and I hope, the Lord's sons.\n\n                                          Yours respectfully,\n                                                            N. A.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Canon City, Colo., May 27, 1904.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     I take pleasure in answering your most kind and welcome letter\n     received a few days ago. I am quite well at present. I am taking\n     things as easy as I can and waiting most patiently to know how I\n     will fare. I haven't forgot to pray and read the Bible, nor will\n     I as long as I live. I am trusting in the Lord, for He makes all\n     things right. I will close, hoping to hear from you again.\n\n                                         Very sincerely yours,\n                                                            C. P.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Canon City, Colo., May 27, 1904.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     I take pleasure in answering your letter. You don't know how glad\n     I was to hear from you. This leaves me well and in good faith and\n     I am trusting in the Lord, for I know He will help me if I will\n     only be good and do His will. I pray and read my Bible every\n     night and day. Oh, if I ever do get my freedom I will make a man\n     of myself and do God's will and make my poor wife and mother and\n     father happy. I will never take a drop of whiskey or anything\n     again. So good-bye. We have heard nothing of our case yet. The\n     time seems so long.\n\n                                      From yours sincerely,\n                                                            F. A.\n\nThe following are extracts from touching letters from the aged mother\nand young wife of this young man:\n\n                                  Kansas City, Mo., July 4, 1904.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     We received your card and were indeed glad to hear from you. Oh,\n     I am praying to God all the time to spare my baby's life. How can\n     I ever live if they take his life! Why do they want it? He did\n     not kill any one, although the deed he did almost breaks my\n     heart. F. never drank until he got with those people on Market\n     Street. They got him to smoking hop and drinking whiskey. My dear\n     and only child, will God and man have mercy on him? Oh, I thank\n     you for going to see my poor baby boy! God bless him and save his\n     life.\n\n     I hope you can see the Governor and see if he will do something\n     for a mother to save her only child. I can hardly stand it. It\n     has done F. so much good for you to see him. He always speaks of\n     you when he writes home. Oh, I do hope the Governor will give you\n     some hopes, for if I could get any hopes of F. being spared it\n     would do me so much good! I pray day and night for my boy. He is\n     on my mind all the time. Hoping to hear from you soon, I am\n\n                            Sincerely yours,\n                                                          MRS. A.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Kansas City, Mo., July 4, 1904.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton:\n\n     Kind Friend: I was truly glad to hear from you and that you are\n     going to see my dear husband soon. I hope it will not be long\n     till I see him, for it seems like years since I have seen poor F.\n     I hope my loved one will come out better yet, for I can never\n     stand it. I hope and pray that F. will have a show for his life.\n     How short our young lives were together. F. was always kind to me\n     and it almost took my life when I was robbed of my darling\n     husband. I was an orphan girl. My dear mother died when I was\n     five years old. I had a hard time all my life till I was\n     eighteen, when I was married to F., last September. I was so\n     happy with him. He was a good boy and never drank till he met\n     with the Market Street gang and they got him to drinking and\n     smoking that hop.\n\n     This is the Fourth of July and F.'s gray-haired mother and I are\n     here grieving over the loved one in prison. If a wife ever loved\n     a husband truly I love mine. I remain your friend,\n\n                                                       MRS. F. A.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                               Canon City, Colo., Sept. 22, 1904.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     I was glad to hear from you, which I always am, for your letters\n     are full of kind words and it is a pleasure to read them in my\n     lonely cell and know there is one true friend who prays for me.\n     Kind words are few for me now when I am in need and going through\n     the most terrible and trying time of a lifetime. But I am living\n     in hopes and trusting God for my future, come what may. I surely\n     thank you for seeing the Governor in our behalf.\n\n     My mother and wife are well. Their letter to you must have been\n     missent, for they wrote. This leaves me well.\n\n                                              Yours sincerely,\n                                                            F. A.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                               Canon City, Colo., March 26, 1905.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton:\n\n     Dear Mother: I was very glad to hear from you as I did not know\n     what had become of you. Well, the law has been found good and the\n     death watch is over us. Poor ---- was hung the 6th. Our time\n     begins the 21st of May. Yes, I am trusting God and I know He has\n     heard my prayers, and whatever comes will be for the best. P----\n     is getting better again they tell me. A---- is the same as ever.\n     I wrote to my mother today and told her I heard from you.\n\n                            Yours sincerely\n                                                            F. A.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                               Canon City, Colo., April 12, 1905.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, Los Angeles, Cal.:\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton: I was glad to hear from you. Your letters do\n     me so much good, they always give me new hope. Of course you\n     understand what I am going through, and at times hope seems\n     hopeless for the time seems so long to me in this dreary cell,\n     and to think if I had left that horrible liquor alone and stayed\n     away from bad company where I could have been to-night--free and\n     happy, at home with my wife and my poor old mother and father.\n     But as it is I am sad and lonely and my loved ones are far away,\n     heart-broken. But I believe my prayers will be answered yet, for\n     I know God has heard them. But, the Lord's will be done. I know\n     He will do what is best for me.\n\n     Well, dear mother, the boys are well and send their best regards.\n\n                           Sincerely yours,\n                                                            F. A.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Canon City, Colo., June 15, 1905.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     I received your kind and welcome letter and was glad to hear from\n     you again. I will never have the pleasure of reading another\n     letter from you in this world, for I have been put back in a\n     horrible death cell again and the Board of Pardons and Governor\n     have refused to save me from the terrible death I am doomed for,\n     but I expect to meet you in heaven, dear mother, for I know God\n     has forgiven me all of my sins. I want to thank you again for all\n     you have done for me, for I know you have spent many a sleepless\n     night on account of me. I felt a great deal better after seeing\n     and praying with you the last time you were here than I had since\n     I've been in this trouble. I am glad things are most at an end\n     for I am very weary of these lonesome death cells. Of course I\n     don't want to die nor am I glad of it, for I have lots to live\n     for yet as you know, but the Lord's will be done. I know it will\n     be for the best. Well, I will close for this time. I am to be\n     hung in the next twenty-four hours, so good-bye, dear friend.\n     Think of me sometime in the future.\n\n                                 From your son in Christ,\n                                                            F. A.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n     Mother Wheaton:\n\n     Dear Mother: We just received your loving letter last night and\n     was glad to hear from you. Oh, dear mother, my darling boy is\n     gone; never can I see his loving face in this cruel world. Oh, it\n     is terrible; it seems too hard for me to stand. Just think, my\n     only darling child. But I know he is in heaven. He died on the\n     16th. We went to see him and he was so glad to see us. He kissed\n     his papa and all of us and said he wanted us not to grieve any\n     more than we could help.... His last words were \"Good-bye,\n     mamma,\" with a smile and wave of his hand just like I was coming\n     back again. He said he would like to be buried close to home.\n     Poor, darling boy; he loved to be close to home and mamma in\n     life, but it is hard to think that he had to spend his last days\n     away from us, all on account of whiskey.\n\n                                           Your friends as ever,\n                                                   MRS. A. AND L.\n\n     (The above was from the aged mother and the young wife.)\n\nThink you, dear reader, that these experiences are passed by lightly\nwhen I must enter into the sorrows of these mothers and loved ones who\nmust give up their dear ones in this way? Only the grace and love of\nGod can sustain me and these dear bereaved ones in these trials. This\nwas one of my saddest experiences, as I was personally acquainted\nwith the parents and the dear young wife of one of these young men,\nhaving been entertained at their home some days at a time during their\nsorrow. This is only another example of what strong drink is doing in\nour land. God pity those who in the least favor this traffic.\n\nI give below short extracts taken from _The Daily News_ of Denver\nconcerning these cases:\n\n     \"Not yet has the final word for F. A., C. P. and N. A., under\n     sentence of death, been said.\n\n     \"It is likely that it will not be said for at least a week or ten\n     days. The Board of Pardons adjourned late yesterday afternoon\n     without deciding the fate of the three boys....\n\n     \"But, though the tragic element was lacking, there was present\n     throughout the meeting an undercurrent of deep human woe. The\n     mother of A. was there, clad in black, with a hopeless expression\n     on her face pitiful to see. Beside her at all times was the wife\n     of A., young, pretty in an indefinite sort of way, her blue eyes\n     holding ever before them the wreck of her shattered girlish\n     romance. Both women wept freely at times.\n\n     \"With the two women were a dozen of their women friends, whose\n     coming had been actuated by a mixture of curiosity and sympathy.\n\n\n                         FRIEND OF ALL PRISONERS.\n\n     \"Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton, friend of prisoners the world over,\n     was there too. She sat next Mrs. A., the elder, and wept\n     copiously in sympathy. 'Mother' Wheaton visited the boys at Canon\n     City, and she told the board the impression of her visit, how,\n     she was sure, they had repented of their deed and had their sins\n     forgiven.\n\n     \"She also pleaded for their lives on the ground of opposition to\n     capital punishment. She has been in state prison rescue work for\n     twenty-one years, and her silver hair, refined face and gentle\n     manner have brought comfort to criminals everywhere.\"--News, May\n     6.\n\n\n                         SESSION OF THE BOARD.\n\n     The Board of Pardons met in special session at 10 o'clock\n     yesterday morning for the purpose of passing finally upon the\n     applications of the three boys for commutation of sentence from\n     death to imprisonment for life.\n\n     Interest in the proceedings of the morning centered around four\n     women, two mothers, a sister and a wife of the condemned boys.\n     They were Mrs. J. A., bowed with the weight of her seventy years,\n     who had come all the way from Buffalo, N. Y., to be present at\n     the meeting; her daughter, Miss A., of Denver; Mrs. J. A. and\n     Mrs. F. A., mother and wife, respectively, of F. A. All four were\n     present throughout the hearing and made personal pleas to the\n     Board.\n\n     After the hearing was concluded they went together into the outer\n     office of the executive chamber and sat huddled up in one corner\n     of the big room, their eyes fixed on the door which led to the\n     inner office where four men were deciding whether the boys they\n     loved should live or die.\n\n\n                         HEARD THE BAD NEWS.\n\n     When the news of the Board's action was conveyed by Secretary C.\n     E. Hagar to the four women waiting in the outer office, their\n     grief was pitiful in the extreme. Mrs. A. very nearly collapsed.\n     She clung to the arm of her daughter and moaned in heart-breaking\n     accents. The daughter, too, was almost overcome, but controlled\n     herself for her mother's sake.\n\n     The mother and wife of F. A., while it was evident they were\n     suffering keenly, maintained an outward composure except for the\n     tears which welled from their eyes. They hurriedly left the\n     capitol building together. The young wife will go to the\n     penitentiary Friday to say a last good-bye to her husband.\n\n\n                            PLEA OF ATTORNEY.\n\n     W. E., attorney for A., made a wonderfully eloquent plea for his\n     client's life. It was logical, pathetic and at times scathing in\n     its denunciation of the methods used by the police to extort\n     confessions from the boys. He said these methods, in their\n     horrible brutality, were without parallel anywhere.\n\n     \"The only evidence upon which N. A. was convicted,\" he said, \"was\n     the alleged confession wrung out of him by police brutality. This\n     confession was made after the prisoner had been 'sweated' and\n     intimidated. One ear had been almost torn off, he had been\n     cuffed, kicked and trampled upon, and then, under the influence\n     of threats, he made his alleged confession.\"\n\n\n     NEWS THAT SON IS TO HANG BROKEN TO AGED WOMAN BY HER DAUGHTER AND\n                            CAUSES COLLAPSE.\n\n     Sitting and staring with a blank look into space, at intervals\n     relieving the tension of her misery by low moans, and then again\n     ejaculating pitifully, \"Oh, my boy! My poor, poor boy! Can I live\n     and know that you died upon the gallows?\" Mrs. J. A. is now\n     hovering on the borderland of life at the home of her daughter in\n     Denver.\n\n     It was not until noon yesterday that Mrs. A. was told that the\n     pardons board had refused to grant her son, N. A., a commutation\n     of sentence from death to life imprisonment. Up to that moment\n     when the terrible knowledge became hers she had a mother's hope\n     that the pardons board must save her boy. From the moment she\n     heard from her daughter's lips that the son and brother must die,\n     Mrs. A. has been verging upon a semi-comatose condition, and\n     under the constant care of a physician.\n\n     She was illy prepared to hear the news yesterday, for she had\n     spent the night previous without closing her eyes in sleep. It\n     was not until 5 o'clock that slumber came to her mercifully, and\n     even then she merely slept in a fitful doze until 8 o'clock.\n\n\n                            SUPPRESSED EMOTION.\n\n     The serious phase of Mrs. A.'s condition, her physician regards,\n     is that with her it is all suppressed emotion. She does not cry\n     out or rave, but endures her intense suffering in quiet. It is\n     but seldom that tears come to her relief, and the only vent her\n     emotion has is in her low moans for her \"poor boy.\"\n\n     After the news was broken to her, Mrs. A. spent most of the day\n     in bed. Late last night she was still in the same condition, and\n     the gravest anxiety is felt by her relatives.\n\n     Mrs. A. is 70 years old. She lives in Buffalo, N. Y., and made\n     the long trip of 1,500 miles to personally plead with the State\n     Board of Pardons for the life of her son.\n\n\n                               TO TEST GALLOWS.\n\n     Warden C. will today test the automatic scaffold upon which N. A.\n     and F. A. will be executed next week. He will see that\n     everything about the device is in perfect order and will make a\n     final test just prior to taking the first of the two to his\n     death. The execution house, where the men will be confined until\n     the final summons, is 28x30 feet. It contains three condemned\n     cells and across the hall from these are two large rooms. In the\n     center of one is a large iron plate and on this the condemned is\n     asked to stand after the noose and cap have been adjusted. The\n     weight of the man causes the plate to drop about an inch. This\n     closes the circuit of a current connecting with a bucket of water\n     which stands on a shelf in a closet in an adjoining room. By a\n     magnet arrangement a plug in the bottom of the bucket is pulled\n     and the water begins to flow out. As soon as the vessel is empty\n     an automatic connection releases a catch holding a bag of sand on\n     the end of the noose.\n\n     The sand, being heavier than the man, falls, causing the body at\n     the other extremity of the rope to be jerked off the floor to the\n     height of three feet. The sandbag is in the room containing the\n     closet where the bucket is and the rope from the noose reaches\n     that room over a pulley and through a hole in the wall.\n\n     The condemned man does not see any of the details of the\n     execution when he enters the death cell. The iron plate in the\n     floor and the noose around his neck are the only parts he can\n     see. He does not hear the dropping of the water nor the working\n     of any of the mechanism.\n\n     The instant the man is jerked off his feet and suspended at the\n     end of the rope his neck is broken. The time intervening between\n     the pulling of the plug in the bucket and the falling of the sand\n     is usually about a minute. The suspense to the prisoner, however,\n     is not regarded as any more cruel than that experienced by a man\n     in the electrical chair or on the scaffold while he awaits the\n     fatal current or the springing of the trap.\n\n     The hanging apparatus was invented by a convict fifteen years\n     ago.--_News_, May 20.\n\nAs shown by foregoing letters these cases were continued till June 16.\nSuch is the suspense, sorrow of heart and grief through which many are\nconstantly passing in this world, all on account of sin. What are we\ntrying to do to lend a hand of relief?\n\nSuch, dear reader, are a few of the many, many cases of this class\nwith which I have had to do in these more than twenty years of\nministry to those that are bound. Some were hardened criminals, others\ninnocent of the crime for which they were condemned and others no more\nguilty than thousands that the world honors. For all, Christ died; and\nmany others beside these I have mentioned have given evidence of\nsaving faith in the blood that is able to cleanse the deepest stain\nthat sin has made.\n\nOne case is just as near and dear to my mother heart as another and\nyet how different in many respects are these condemned men--different\nin their natural inclinations and unlike because of their different\ncircumstances in life. Among them are found the refined, the educated,\nthe gifted, the beautiful as well as the low, the ignorant, the\ndegraded. All must share the same fate. All are shown in the worst\npossible light to a gaping, sensation-loving, curious world. Let us,\ndear reader, take these cases home to our hearts as if they were our\nvery own and so learn to have that charity that suffereth long and is\nkind. Even Moses and David took life, yet they were forgiven, and\nMoses who in haste slew the Egyptian, became the prophet so\nwonderfully used of God because of his meekness of spirit; and David\nin his thankfulness declared, \"This poor man cried and the Lord heard\nhim and delivered him out of all his troubles.\"\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XV.\n\n                      Work in Churches and Missions.\n\n\nAs stated in preface I have always as opportunity offered been ready\nto preach the gospel to all men. In this chapter I speak very briefly\nof some of the work done in churches and missions and give some\nletters from pastors and friends referring to this part of my labors.\n\n\n                             STRANGELY LED.\n\nI once had a young sister with me whom I had taken from Toronto,\nCanada. I had told her mother I would return her safely and had given\nher money to pay her fare home. As we returned through a field to the\ncity from the poor farm where I had held a service, I said to the\nsister, \"I am so hungry.\" She replied, \"O wait till we get to heaven,\nthen we shall have of the twelve manner of fruit, and drink of the\nwater of life,\" and I was cheered and blest as I went along the way.\nThe Lord showed me to trust Him. When I reached my lodging-house I was\nso weak and tired that I sat down to rest a few moments before\nascending the stairs to my room. The landlady sat by her well-filled\ntable after the boarders were all gone. She asked the servant for a\nplate, and I watched her while she cut off a nice piece of turkey and\na piece of roast beef and then put some bread on the plate and handed\nit to me. I was, O, so glad, but feared she was going to ask pay for\nit, and I had only a dime. I asked, \"How much is this?\" and she\nreplied, \"Nothing.\" I was so overcome with gratitude to God for His\ngoodness that I hastened to my room and thanked God for answering\nprayer, in giving me food I needed to give me strength for the\nmeeting that afternoon on the street, and in the evening at the\ncolored people's church. At the close of the meeting in the evening\nthe preacher said: \"The sister has given us a good sermon, and the\ngospel must be carried, so come up and give us a good collection.\" The\npeople responded heartily and gave a very liberal collection, but\nafter the meeting the preacher handed me 25 cents, keeping the rest. I\nfelt very badly as I had prayed for money which I needed so much. I\nmust go to another city, and no money for traveling expenses. I had\nbeen obliged to have some work done by the dentist which must be paid,\nand no money, but I kept believing, yet no open heart or door. I\nwondered why I was led to go to another place with no means provided.\nWhen I had gotten the amount needed I left, heart-sick, lonely and\nweary to go on alone in the work, and the sister to go home to Canada.\nA few days later I was walking along the streets of Lynchburg, Va. I\nmet a man who said, \"I am Rev. B---- from Chicago. I have met you\nseveral times in your work. Sister Wheaton, won't you come with me to\nchurch?\" I said, \"Where?\" and he said, \"To the First Baptist church.\"\n\nWhen we entered the beautiful new church building the evangelist\nintroduced me to the young pastor, who hurried by indifferently. He\nthen presented me to some fine looking ladies who also passed by on\nthe other side. When the evangelist had closed his sermon he said,\n\"Now, friends, this is the lady I told you about who has done more\ngood than we preachers. I know her, but she don't know me. Receive her\nas a sister. She is worthy.\" When the service closed, one after\nanother came to speak to me and gave me their hand and invited me to\ntheir homes. A gentleman and wife came up and said, \"We claim you as\nour guest.\" The husband said, \"The carriage is at the door. I will\nwalk and you may ride with my wife.\" I was at a loss to know just\nwhich invitation to accept, when the evangelist came up and said,\n\"These are the people for you to go with.\" I did so and the Lord went\nwith me. I was invited to preach that night and the Lord was there in\nmighty convicting power. At the close of the meeting the evangelist\nsaid, \"Sister, how did it happen that I met you just as I did this\nmorning?\" I said, \"Brother B., things don't happen with me. The Lord\nsent me to this place.\"\n\nThe next day a young lady called at the house and inquired for me. I\nwent to the door and she handed me a small parcel saying, \"Your\nfriends from the First Baptist church sent you this.\" Thanking her I\nwent inside and found it was fifteen dollars.\n\nI was the guest of one of the F. F. V.'s, so was welcomed everywhere.\nOther churches and other preachers invited me to their pulpits. In a\nfew days Mrs. Col. O. asked me if I would conduct a meeting for women\nonly at the M. E. church if she would arrange for it. I was impressed\nthat the thought was of God and agreed to do so. The meeting was\nappointed for Wednesday at 4 p. m. On the way to the church I was so\nburdened with the responsibility of the meeting that I told the sister\n(the kind friend who entertained me) that I could not talk, I must\npray the rest of the way to church. To my surprise the place became\ncrowded. I had expected perhaps a dozen women and no men; and here the\nplace was full of elegantly dressed ladies, and the pastor of the\nchurch, Brother H., and a policeman were also present. I tried to\nproceed with the service, but seemed unable to do so. After prayer and\nsinging, \"How firm a foundation,\" I arose and said: \"Is any one led of\nthe Spirit to give me a text. I have no message.\" A sister arose and\ntimidly said, \"The 14th chapter of John.\" Well, the flood gates of\nHeaven were opened to my soul. God spoke and waves of salvation rolled\nover the church, and women, God bless them! arose and said, \"I thought\nI was a Christian until today, but I find I have never begun to serve\nthe Lord yet. I promise, by God's help, to begin anew today for\nHeaven.\" The dear Lord touched proud hearts and melted them together\nuntil the place was filled with the glory of God. The pastor and\npeople asked me to hold another meeting the following day for both men\nand women. I said I would do so in the fear of the Lord, and the Lord\nwonderfully blessed the services. Souls were brought in touch with God\nand saved. I said to them, \"Friends, begin a revival at once. God is\nready to work with you if you follow Him. My services are ended in\nthis church. The prisoners, my special care, need me, and the poor and\nthe colored people.\" I remained three weeks in that city, wonderfully\nblessed of God. When I left there were over fifty dollars in my hand,\nof free will offerings. I see why the Lord sent me to the city to\narouse the sleeping church members and preachers, both white and\ncolored, from their cold, lifeless spiritual condition.\n\nSoon after leaving Lynchburg I received the following letter from the\nsister who planned the meeting, which greatly encouraged me:\n\n                                          Lynchburg, May 2, 1887.\n\n     My Dear Sister:\n\n     I received your letter several days since. I am truly rejoiced to\n     know that you receive that peace and comfort which a child of God\n     knows to be her portion.\n\n     My thoughts have followed you since your departure from our city\n     and prayers from many hearts have ascended to the throne for\n     your safety and success in the great work God has called you to\n     do.\n\n     I have not known of a revival such as is now in progress at Dr.\n     Hannon's church. Men and women are flocking to the meetings, old\n     and young, to know what they must do to be saved. My son was\n     happily converted last Friday night. He had long been cold and\n     indifferent, but now all is joy and he works and speaks for God\n     with willingness. He is in solemn earnest now in working, praying\n     and speaking in the great congregation. Surely goodness and mercy\n     have followed me all the days of my life and I will dwell at the\n     feet of my Master forever.\n\n     Though God has sent tears to my eyes and grief to my heart,\n     thanks to His dear name He has kept me from falling. I think you\n     left a good influence among the fallen women here. I have been\n     sent for to go to some since you left. I have sent this day a\n     request to the official board of my church to give me the use of\n     one room in the church where I can always meet them for the\n     purpose of hearing of their desires to lead a new life. In this\n     way my pastor can meet them and help me in this work. I await the\n     result.\n\n                    Your friend with sincere love and prayers,\n                                                  Mrs. Lucy K. O.\n\nI went on my way, and some time after was in San Francisco,\nCalifornia. Hearing one day, as I left the jail, of a holiness\nconvention, I was impressed to attend. When I arrived a testimony\nmeeting was in progress. I arose and began to sing, \"Yes, I will stand\nup for Jesus,\" and the minister in charge came down the aisle to me\nand said: \"Is this Sister Wheaton who held meetings in my church in\nL----, Va.?\" I said, \"My name is Elizabeth Wheaton, and I held\nmeetings in that city. Are you Dr. H.?\" and he said, \"Yes.\" He\nreturned to the platform and told the people of my work in his church\nand that about four hundred had been saved, and told the people to\nreceive me as a child of God. So homes were opened. The work of God\nmoved on. As I was a stranger in a strange city, I blessed God for\nthe leadings of the Holy Spirit in all my pilgrim way. I have not seen\nDr. H. since that time. He gave me a pressing invitation to his church\nin San Francisco but work on other lines prevented my acceptance.\n\n\n                       LETTERS FROM OTHER FRIENDS.\n\n                                   Wetumpka, Ala., Jan. 12, 1885.\n\n     My Dear Sister:\n\n     It would be impossible for me to express in words the Christian\n     sympathy and love I have for you--one that has left all; yes,\n     all--denying yourself and taking up the cross of Jesus, carrying\n     the glad tidings of salvation to the despised, to the outcast, to\n     the poor in spirit and to the oppressed. I pray daily that the\n     good Lord may bless you.\n\n     Dear sister, those in the world whose minds are carnal, cannot\n     understand your work, for your life is hidden in God, and cannot\n     be discerned in any other way but by the Spirit. Our crosses will\n     soon be over. Jesus will not let us suffer for Him long. He is\n     coming for us soon. Then \"Be not weary in well-doing, for in due\n     season we shall reap, if we faint not.\" We are not the only\n     friends you have in Wetumpka. Long will you live in our memory. I\n     pray that the Lord may ever guide and lead you as He knows and\n     sees best. I am your brother in Christ,\n\n                                            A. J. ROGERS, Pastor.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Fort Wayne, Ind., Sept. 2, 1897.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     We were so glad to hear from you. Our meeting closed on Sunday\n     evening, August 22, with twenty-eight persons asking the prayers\n     of the church. We are beginning special services three evenings\n     in the week.\n\n     We are planning to begin another revival meeting about the middle\n     of October. Would be glad to have you with us. We are praying\n     that the dear Lord may so order it if it is His will. The Lord is\n     leading and we are expecting great things.\n\n     Remember us kindly to Mrs. H. I hope you will write again, so\n     that we may be posted as to your movements. We are praying for\n     you. Do not forget us. Mrs. Cooper and Merrill wish to be\n     remembered to you. \"The Lord bless and keep thee and cause His\n     face to shine upon thee.\" Good-bye for a little while.\n\n                                        Fraternally,\n                          M. C. COOPER, Pastor St. Paul's Church.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Fort Wayne, Ind., Sept. 29, 1897.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Sister in Christ: Your letter received and I must say I hold\n     it very sacred and dear.\n\n     I think of you often, and not only I, but a large number of\n     others. We cannot tell the good you did while here, but God above\n     knows and He will reward you. Many have been more willing to do\n     their Christian duty. They seem to realize more fully what it\n     means to be a Christian. O there is so much in it!\n\n     Dear sister, the Lord being willing, we are going to hold another\n     revival campaign, commencing Sunday, October 17. I am so anxious\n     I can hardly wait. I enjoy myself so much when I can be doing\n     work for my dear Lord and Master, who did so much for me. I wish\n     the Lord would see fit to send you this way during our revival,\n     and my prayers shall be to that end. It is God's work and you are\n     one of His workers. You have the constant prayer of St. Paul's\n     church, and we are sure that we have yours. May God's choicest\n     blessings rest upon and abide with you. \"The Lord lift up His\n     countenance upon thee and give thee peace.\"\n\n                                                     LOUISE ROUX.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n                  (From the _Gazette_, Fort Wayne, Ind.)\n\n   MRS. WHEATON, FAMOUS PRISON EVANGELIST, \"LED BY THE LORD HERE\"--HER\n  FAITH IN THIS ABSOLUTE--OPENS INTERVIEW WITH PRAYER--LARGE AUDIENCES\n                               HEAR HER.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton is in town and last night and\n     yesterday afternoon addressed a large audience at the revival\n     services which Rev. Mr. Cooper, of St. Paul's M. E. church is\n     conducting in a tent situated near his church, on Walton avenue.\n     She reached this city Saturday evening over the Pennsylvania.\n     Having missed a train at Warsaw en route to visit a sister who\n     lives at Elkhart, she was directed, she said by the Lord, after\n     prayer, to come to Fort Wayne to spend the Sabbath. On the way\n     over her singing and praying on the train attracted attention to\n     her and a member of the Wayne Street Methodist Church, on\n     learning who she was, invited her and her sister, Mrs. Hoffman,\n     to spend the night at his home. She had heard, she said, of the\n     meetings that Mr. Cooper is conducting, and she said, with a\n     manner of absolute confidence, that she had been directed to\n     attend these meetings. Rev. Mr. Cooper said yesterday that the\n     meeting was in progress as she and her companion entered and that\n     he was impressed to speak to her. On learning her name he knew\n     her instantly by fame as the widely traveled and much beloved\n     prison evangelist. She was given a welcome and was at once asked\n     to participate in the services. At the night meeting there were a\n     thousand people, it is said, who listened enrapt to her prayers\n     and moving appeals to the sinner to accept the salvation in which\n     she so thoroughly believes.\n\n     The prisoners at the jail were her first concern Sunday morning.\n     She told Mr. Cooper that after arising she turned to her Bible\n     for guidance and her eyes fell upon certain Scripture which\n     contained the word prison three times. She took this as evidence\n     that she should first visit the jail and thither she went. It is\n     quickly apprehended by those who come in contact with her that\n     she pauses not when directed, as she believes, to do a service in\n     the cause of the Master, but goes at once. She has no\n     questionings of faith.\n\n     A Gazette reporter found her last night at the home of Mr. Bower,\n     No. 136 Walton avenue. Her physical appearance marks her as no\n     ordinary person. Her face beams with a kindly smile, being plump\n     and fresh with the vigor of apparent health, though gray hair\n     indicates her past the prime of life. She dresses modestly in\n     black and carries with her a satchel in which she keeps a\n     Testament, her pass holder and some tracts. Her handshake is a\n     model of firmness and heartiness, conveying the impress of\n     intense earnestness. Before permitting the interviewer to proceed\n     further than the salutations, Mrs. Wheaton kneeled and prayed for\n     the Lord's blessing upon the interview. This unconventional\n     prelude was novel in the experience of the reporter, but coming\n     from such a woman seemed perfectly in place. There is reverence\n     and piety proclaimed by her presence and no thought of\n     incongruity obtruded. The prayer took the range of ready\n     invocation and communion with the Lord, and as is probably the\n     evangelist's wont, the prisoner and the fallen woman were not\n     forgotten in her petition to the throne of grace.\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton was not inclined to talk about herself. \"What has\n     been done by me,\" she said, \"was done of the Lord--His be the\n     glory. I was called to this work thirteen years ago, and I walk\n     by His guidance. I have never asked and could not accept a\n     salary. I have never had a collection taken for me. It is a\n     wonderful thing how He has led me. Here are some of the railroad\n     passes that have been given me.\"\n\n     And here she unrolled a leathern holder full of passes from all\n     the leading roads. Some were \"Account of Missionary Work\" and\n     some \"Account of Christian Work.\" It is evident that she has\n     traveled this country over, and her ministrations have also\n     extended to the old world.\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton again attended the services last night, and moved\n     all by her stirring words. Many could not repress the tears. Her\n     address was not anchored to a formal text, but was a strong\n     appeal, nevertheless, to the sinner to repent. The audience was\n     slow to pass out after the meeting, being anxious to meet the\n     speaker.\n\nThe following from Bro. Snyder and his estimable wife who are my very\ndear friends and whose home is always open to me when I am in\nBaltimore, are very much prized. They explain themselves. Their work\nfor God and souls is very exceptional:\n\n     During the winter of 1894, Mother Wheaton was conducting a\n     service at the state prison, when one of our men expressed his\n     desire that she should attend our services. This was my first\n     introduction to this noble child of God, and since then she\n     seldom comes East without visiting our church; we all love her,\n     but she rarely stays over a day at one time, as her work calls\n     her away.\n\n     In 1898, we induced her to remain with us a week. At this meeting\n     hundreds of people attended and many souls were saved. One of\n     the wealthiest ladies of the church received her pentecost and is\n     now one of our best workers. During the day Mother Wheaton would\n     visit the outcast of the city. I recall a case of an old colored\n     woman that we found in a miserable hovel, dying without Christ;\n     how, after preparing the room and then praying to Father for the\n     body, she seemed to be brought back to life by the prayers of\n     God's saint that she might be led to Christ, and after she gave\n     her life to Him we administered the Lord's supper. Mother Wheaton\n     has always been a blessing, whenever she has come to my church;\n     good people are made better, bad people made good.\n\n[Illustration: CHURCH OF THE REDEEMER, BALTIMORE, M. D.]\n\n     The church was dedicated to God by \"Mother Wheaton\" before it was\n     finished; while the building was in course of erection she paid\n     us a short visit; with the moon shining through the open windows,\n     mortar, bricks, etc., around us, she was prompted to take the\n     church to God in prayer. I will never forget the scene. Thousands\n     have been saved and many sanctified. The work is still spreading.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Baltimore, Md., January 19, 1901.\n\n     Dear Mother: Your kind letter to your children received today.\n     Began special meetings Wednesday night, the 16th. The three\n     nights have been blessed and owned of Father. Those in and out of\n     the church saved. Thirty-three at the altar.\n\n     You were mentioned last night in the meeting. I told them they\n     could look for you to come in at any time, as I believe Father is\n     going to send you. Never in my ministry did I feel more in\n     harmony with the divine Spirit. As I am writing I am thinking of\n     our citizenship in heaven. What a time we will have!\n\n     How I longed for you to shout with me Wednesday night over the\n     conversion of a man 60 years of age, who never knew Christ. I\n     could not sleep, but praised the Father all that night. He had\n     his wife and daughter with him in church last night.\n\n     Mrs. Snyder joins me in much love to you and Sister Taylor. As\n     ever,\n\n                         Your son in the Gospel,\n                                                    J. K. SNYDER.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Baltimore, Md., October 20, 1902.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     Your kind letter came today. Mrs. Snyder and Eddie often speak of\n     you; and once a day, at least, we pray for you.\n\n     Yesterday several of the boys in the Sunday School formed a\n     committee, and without a word being spoken about you, came to me\n     and asked of you and wanted to know when they would have you with\n     us.\n\n     Last week had fifteen born again; four last night. So you see\n     Father is still blessing your children.\n\n     God bless you and keep you, is the prayer of your son,\n\n                                                    J. K. SNYDER.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n               1737 North Broadway, Baltimore Md., June 23, 1903.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     Your long expected letter received. Our dear heavenly Father\n     continues to bless us at home and at the church, souls saved and\n     believers sanctified. Glory! The Blood covers our sins.\n\n     Eddie was glad to know you had not forgotten him. He is a great\n     help in the church; your prayers are not in vain. We remain\n\n                                      Your children,\n                                           J. K. SNYDER AND WIFE.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n              (From the Whosoever Will Rescue Mission.)\n\n                                  New Orleans, La., May 24, 1897.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     We are getting along nicely at the Mission. The Lord is blessing\n     our work and many souls are being saved. We have started a branch\n     mission further downtown. We call it \"No. 2.\"\n\n     We will never forget you, dear mother; your visit did us so much\n     good. The boys at the Mission often talk of you and Sister\n     Kelley. We would like to have you visit us again soon, the Lord\n     willing. Mother and all send kindest regards. Wife sends love to\n     you both. Pray for us. I remain\n\n                           Your brother in Jesus,\n                                                      J. H. HAAG.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n              (From the Mission Worker, New Orleans.)\n\n                          PRISON EVANGELIST.\n\n     \"Mother Wheaton,\" the noted prison evangelist, arrived in the\n     city on the evening of February 21, and spent several nights\n     during her stay. This sister in Israel has visited nearly all if\n     not quite every state prison in the United States and some in\n     foreign countries, preaching to their inmates the glad tidings of\n     great joy. She is a forcible speaker and very deeply in earnest.\n     Her visit to this city was a pleasant one and resulted in much\n     good to many.\n\n     During her stay here Mother Wheaton has been kept very busy about\n     her Master's business. She has visited about all the prisons and\n     eleemosynary institutions in the city, singing, praying and\n     exhorting the inmates to a better life. She has been at the\n     Mission every night, and we have had some wonderful meetings.\n     Sister J. H. Haag has been her almost constant companion and the\n     two have done splendid work. On her way from the Mission this\n     Mother in Israel has several times stopped in at saloons, and\n     talked to all present about their soul's welfare. She is\n     intrepid--absolutely without fear--and well she may be for she\n     leans upon the Everlasting Arm.\n\n     We do not know how long she will stay with us, but probably for\n     some days, as she now has several invitations on hand. She will\n     go when and where the Lord leads her. Our prayer is that she may\n     be made the instrument of winning many souls to Christ that her\n     crown in glory may be studded with precious jewels. She says of\n     herself that she \"has no home but heaven.\"\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                  (From Pacific Garden Mission.)\n\n                                        Chicago, October 6, 1903.\n\n     My Dear Sister Wheaton, God's Chosen One:\n\n     How I praise my heavenly Father for your life and that I ever\n     knew you, and for your unselfish mercy to the poor and neglected\n     classes. May you long be spared to \"gather them in from the\n     fields of sin\" is the prayer of\n\n                                  Your sister in Christ,\n                                                SARAH D. CLARK,\n                                          Pacific Garden Mission.\n\n\n                        SUCCESSFUL MEETINGS.\n\nDuring the early years of my mission work I arrived one day alone in a\nSouthern city. Went to the postoffice and was reading my mail when a\ngood old man stepped up and inquired who I was and where I stopped. I\ntold him I had just arrived. He said, \"Come home with me. My wife has\na room and a home for good women like you.\" I was praying for an open\ndoor. Did not know where I was going to stay over night, but was sure\nGod had sent me to that place. I found them kind, hospitable people.\nHe was an old-fashioned Methodist preacher already superannuated, and\nhe has long since gone to his reward. He sent for the pastor of their\nchurch and arranged for me to hold a meeting. I went at the request of\nthe pastor to visit an old lady who was sick; thought best to have an\nopen air meeting on the street and invite people to the church that\nnight. During the service on the street I noticed a very well dressed,\nfine looking young man. When I closed he came to me and taking my\nhand asked me to call at his store a few doors away. I did so and he\ngave me a fountain pen and seemed unusually interested in what I had\nsaid.\n\nThe meeting that night was led by the Holy Spirit; souls were saved,\nChristians quickened into new spiritual life and power, and sinners\nawakened. Other services were held in several of the churches. God was\nhonored and the Holy Spirit held right-of-way. Often I would have\nservices in the white people's church till 9 p. m., then hurry to the\ncolored people's church and preach and sing and pray till 11 o'clock.\nThen at 5 in the morning would meet again, at the Methodist church,\nsuch crowds of worshipers--devout, humble seekers after God. I left\nthe city just as the meetings were at their height. In the next world\nwhen we all assemble together I expect to see many who were converted\nat that series of meetings.\n\n\n                      CALLED TO THE MINISTRY.\n\nThe young man who seemed so interested in that first street service\ncame to all the meetings. He was clearly converted and was called to\nthe ministry. For some time he was a successful soul winner,\nmanifesting a pure spirit and a godly life; but he afterwards became\ndiscouraged and went into business to support his family. In a letter\nfrom him in later years I received the following words:\n\n     \"At the time I got your postal I was in serious meditation on\n     spiritual affairs and was fully considering re-entering the\n     Gospel ministry. I know I was called of the Lord through His Holy\n     Spirit to preach His everlasting gospel. Praise His holy name! He\n     gave me the seal of His approval in the witness of His Spirit and\n     the fruit of my labor in the salvation of souls. I know this of a\n     truth from experience. You cannot imagine how I long, Oh, so\n     intensely, to be again filled with His Spirit and to enter upon\n     His work in the salvation of souls.\n\n                        Lovingly yours,\n                                                        I. H. N.\"\n\n\n                   A COLORED WOMAN SAVED AND PREACHING.\n\nIn the year 1886 I was holding meetings in Houston, Texas. Was in a\ncolored people's church one day, and was much perplexed as to how to\nreach the people's hearts. I wept before the Lord in prayer. I did not\nknow it then, but God was working, using my zeal and grief to help\nsave a soul. Finally a woman who came to scoff and ridicule was\nconverted. She received a call to preach after vowing that women were\nnever called to preach. Well, the years rolled by and one night in\nOklahoma City I saw the Salvation Army gathering in a tent. I went in\nand was invited to read the Word and lead the meeting. I did so, and\nas the services were about to close a colored woman arose and said she\nwished to state that she was saved, and told how she was also called\nto preach by the Spirit of the Lord through what I said in that\nmeeting in Houston, Texas, so long before. She labored for years as an\nevangelist and so far as I know is still preaching. In her\nevangelistic work she has labored successfully in many of the states.\n\nAt one time she wrote of her conversion as follows:\n\n     \"When I was seeking life in the Lord, I did not want to eat for\n     two weeks, and had no appetite, but I prayed on and the change\n     came and I felt brand new. I loved everybody--white and colored.\n     I seemed to have on a white garment, and that death had fallen\n     beneath my feet and had no more dominion over me. It seemed that\n     I had seen the Lord and He told me to go in peace and sin no\n     more, and I was one more happy soul. I wanted to tell everybody\n     what the Lord had done for my soul.\"\n\n\n                       STRIKING EXPERIENCES.\n\nOnce while holding meetings in Wichita, Kansas, I was greatly\ntroubled. I knew not why. I could neither preach nor sing. I did not\nknow what was wrong. Suddenly a large man rose and rushed from the\nroom taking his wife and children with him. He told me afterward that\nhe came with the avowed purpose of killing another man who was there.\nAnd they both came there with the intention of killing each other.\n\nAt the same mission a man came running in and said that a young\nrailroad man across the street in the jail was dying, having taken\npoison. I went to the jail where the young man was lying on the floor\nand kneeling beside him, took his hand and for two hours pleaded with\nGod to spare his life and save his soul. And the Lord answered prayer.\nThe doctors were amazed and perplexed, as they could not understand\nhow the man could live, as all their efforts had seemed to be\nfruitless. It was simply one of God's miracles.\n\n\n                           SAVED BY A HYMN.\n\nPassing along the street one night in Louisville, Ky., I saw standing\nin a doorway a group of well-dressed young ladies, also a lady much\nolder. I spoke to them and asked for a drink of water and some favor\nto further the conversation. When once in doors I saw a piano, and\nsaid, \"Which one of you ladies will play a piece on the piano? I love\nmusic so much.\" A little boy four years old came in. They asked him to\ntell me what he intended to be when he grew up. He said, \"A preacher.\nI am going to see my mamma in Heaven.\" He was their sister's boy. He\nsang for me while one of his aunts played the piano. In his sweet,\nlisping voice he sang, \"I never will cease to love Him.\" I was\nimpressed to ask him to come to the mission where I was going to\npreach that night, and sing that piece, and have the aunt play the\norgan. Both consented to go with me and when I asked him the little\nboy came on the platform and sang beautifully. His father had heard\nof my desire to have the child sing, and had straggled into the\nmission under the influence of strong drink. He was so convicted and\nheart-broken he wept, and that four-year-old boy walked from the\nplatform down the aisle to that lonely, heart-sick father, who then\nand there gave himself up to God, and was saved before he left the\nhall, through the singing of a hymn!\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n    God _will_ forgive each penitent whate'er his sin may be,\n    Whose heart is overflowing with _love_ for bond and free.\n    Oh, listen! brother, listen--'tis Jehovah's plan--\n    And a _time is fixed_ to right the wrongs of Man....\n\n                                               --_Prison Poetry._\n\n[Illustration: ARTHUR C. HOFFMAN, NEPHEW OF E. R. W., SITTING ON FRONT\nOF ENGINE.]\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XVI.\n\n                Preaching the Gospel on Railway Trains.\n\n\nThe young man on the front of the engine in the foregoing illustration\nwas my sister's son. I give here an extract from the account of his\ndeath June 7, 1890, as published at the time in the daily of\nHuntington, Ind., where it occurred:\n\n\n                             KILLED BY CARS.\n\n     A. C. Hoffman, a switchman in the Chicago & Atlantic yards, was\n     run over and killed this morning.\n\n     He was employed at night and about 5 o'clock this morning went to\n     the coal dock to run down two cars that had been unloaded there.\n     The track is very much inclined leading from the dock and it\n     requires that brakes be set very tight. When the cars started\n     down the track Hoffman ran from the rear end to the front of the\n     head car to set the brake, but in doing so stubbed his toe and\n     fell from the car to the middle of the track beneath. The car was\n     running rapidly and no sooner did he strike the track than a\n     brake beam of the car struck his right leg near the hip,\n     fracturing the bones and bruising it otherwise. That threw him\n     over and the flange of a wheel struck the lower part of his back,\n     tearing the flesh all off clear to his backbone, exposing it to\n     sight.\n\n     Hoffman was picked up and taken to the Arlington house, where he\n     boarded, and Dr. L. Severance, the railroad surgeon summoned. He\n     did all in his power to make the injured man easy and alleviate\n     his pain, but it was out of the reach of medical skill to save\n     his life and at about 10 o'clock he died in awful agony.\n\n     Hoffman's mother and brother live in Lincoln, Neb., where the\n     latter is a physician. He also has a sister in Elkhart county,\n     this state, all of whom have been telegraphed the sad news.\n\n     He was a good switchman and more than ordinarily intelligent.\n\n     It is a most distressing accident. The young man was here among\n     strangers and died surrounded by the friends of so short an\n     acquaintance but who did everything within human power to save\n     him or make his end one of peace. His injuries were fatal though\n     and nothing short of death would relieve him.\n\n\"ALL ABOARD!\" So shout the railroad men, year in and year out, daily,\nhourly, their cry is to get on board the train. I often think if we\npreachers and mission workers were as faithful in _our_ work to get\npeople on board the old ship Zion, how many to-day would be en route\nfor Heaven who are on the broad-gauge rapid transit to the bottomless\npit of destruction. Will we not arise and shine for God as we have\nnever done before?\n\nOver fifty years ago when I was a small child, I stood at a\nflag-station waiting for the train. I was to go alone ON MY FIRST TRIP\nby this wonderful mode of travel. It was just the grandest thing to\nknow I was really to ride on a railroad train--only four miles, yet I\noften think of it after these twenty years of constant travel. Have I\never had such a remarkable experience, going alone, too, and as there\nwas no station or ticket office, I was obliged to pay my fare on the\ntrain. I had a silver 25-cent piece, and I sat down in the first empty\nseat I came to and waited to see what next! Along came a tall man in\nuniform and asked where I was going. I told him and handed him my\nmoney. I remember yet how kindly that conductor looked at me,\nhesitated a little and then handed me back my quarter, and let me ride\nthose four miles free. I have never forgotten that act of kindness on\nthe railroad, and during my pilgrimage I have been shown much kindness\nby the railroad officials.\n\nMy work among railroad men has been greatly owned and blessed of the\nLord. Many of them saying, \"You are the only preacher that ever speaks\nto us about our soul's salvation.\" They often say I remind them of\ntheir mothers who were good Christians.\n\nThe following by a railroad man will be of interest and profit to\nall, and will doubtless have more weight with his class than anything\nI could say here:\n\n\n                            TO RAILROAD MEN.\n\n                            BY ONE OF THEM.\n\n     Dear Boys: One time in my life these words came to me: \"_Where\n     will you spend eternity?_\" Then and there I turned my back on sin\n     and \"set my face like a flint\" toward God and heaven, and cried\n     to God for Jesus' sake to forgive me; and near the hour of\n     midnight while kneeling at my bedside I received the witness of\n     the Spirit that I was saved. Then and there I was \"born again\"\n     into newness of life. I was changed from a man of sin to a child\n     of God, and since then such wonderful joy and peace fills my soul\n     every minute of the time that I want to tell all of you about it.\n\n     Brother, isn't there in your breast at times an awful aching\n     void? Aren't there times when after trying every pleasure and\n     amusement the world affords, you just quietly sit down all alone\n     before God, and realize that it is all in vain? These things\n     don't satisfy; and there down deep in your heart is a longing\n     that is never satisfied, a hungering for something that will give\n     you complete joy and peace, and soul rest. Brother, there is only\n     one thing that will give you this complete rest, and satisfy\n     every longing of your heart, and that is salvation from sin.\n     Jesus died on the cross that you might be free from sin and live\n     through all the ages of eternity with Him in heaven. \"If we\n     forsake our sins he is faithful and just to forgive our sins and\n     cleanse us from all unrighteousness.\" If we do the forsaking He\n     will do the forgiving, and then through His atoning blood we\n     become new creatures, and after we have received the clear\n     witness that we are adopted into the family of God and can truly\n     call Him Father, if we feel angry at times or have some desire\n     for the world and the things of it, we can come to Him again and\n     completely abandon ourselves to Him, our will, our life, our\n     desires, our time, our talents to be used for His glory, then He\n     will baptize us with the Holy Ghost and power so that it becomes\n     a pleasure to do right and all evil becomes distasteful to us. By\n     the power of the Holy Ghost He cleanses our hearts, and the\n     Comforter which is the Holy Ghost takes up His abode in us,\n     sanctifying us, causing us to live pure, holy lives. We railroad\n     men whose lives are in danger at all times should be prepared to\n     meet God, for one minute we are here and the next we may be\n     standing at the judgment bar of God to answer for deeds done here\n     on earth. Dear reader, are you prepared to do that? If not, make\n     this the time that you will settle this forever by giving your\n     heart to God, then if this little flame of life is snuffed out\n     you will be borne on angel's wings onward and upward through the\n     gates of pearl, over the golden paved streets of the New\n     Jerusalem up to the great white throne where you will see Jesus\n     in all His glory and majesty and hear Him say to you, \"Well done,\n     enter thou into the joy of the Lord.\"\n\n     Let me tell you, brother, when the Lord saved me and gave me such\n     sweet joy and peace I told Him that I would never use beer or\n     tobacco in any form, for I knew it was displeasing to Him, for He\n     says, \"What? know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy\n     Ghost which is in you?\" (1 Cor. 6:19). \"If any man defile the\n     temple of God, him shall God destroy\" (1 Cor. 3:17). \"Cleanse\n     ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit\" (2 Cor.\n     7:1).\n\n     And, brother, perhaps you are a slave to tobacco. Many times you\n     have felt that it was a dirty, useless, expensive habit, and you\n     get thoroughly disgusted with it, and perhaps you quit it for a\n     short time, and then how surprised and disgusted you feel because\n     you find what an awful hold it has got on you. It is worse than a\n     spell of sickness to try and quit it, and you soon take it up\n     again, realizing as you do so that you are harboring something\n     that is stronger than you are, appetite; and although you are a\n     strong, robust man you have to admit that it is your master. And\n     when you go home to meet your mother, wife, sister, you notice\n     them shrink away from the breath made foul by the poisonous\n     tobacco. And the times that it almost destroys the taste for\n     anything else, and you use all the more of it till the\n     disagreeable \"heartburn\" warns you that the deadly poisonous\n     nicotine is eating away at the lining of your stomach, and you\n     are more disgusted than ever, but you can't quit without\n     torturing yourself.\n\n     Oh, how I loved my beer, plug of tobacco and pipe before I was\n     saved, but I quit them all--drinking, chewing, smoking, swearing\n     and all immoral habits, and I would have died before I would have\n     indulged in any one of them in the least; but the _desire_ was\n     still there; at times I wanted them. And seven days after I was\n     saved I was convicted for sanctification or a clean heart. There\n     were some Holy Ghost Christian people who told me there was a\n     place I could get in the higher or complete Christian life where\n     God through Jesus' blood shed without the gate (Heb. 13:12) would\n     cleanse my heart from everything that was displeasing to Him, and\n     would so fill it with love and the power of the Holy Ghost that I\n     would be _completely delivered from all desires that were wrong_,\n     from anger, malice, pride, love of the world, lust, jealousy,\n     etc., and take away the appetite for beer and tobacco. I found\n     God's Word taught it, and believed He was \"strong to deliver,\"\n     and that it was God's will, even my sanctification (1 Thes. 4:3).\n\n     And I cried to God to give me \"a clean heart, and a right\n     spirit,\" and he answered my prayer. It was done instantly. I\n     arose from my knees with a sweet sense of complete deliverance,\n     and such joy and perfect peace filled my whole being that I\n     couldn't praise Jesus enough for it. From that moment I have not\n     had the least desire for those things any more than if I never\n     had tasted them, and the very smell of beer or tobacco makes me\n     sick. This is a wonderful, grand deliverance. Now I am as free as\n     the very air--saved, sanctified, and sweetly kept by the power of\n     God.\n\n     Brother, this is for you if you are willing to give up the\n     foolishness of the world for Christ. The joy that we have in one\n     hour in the service of the Lord is far greater than all the\n     pleasure the world can give in a lifetime. This power of the Holy\n     Ghost within us, this abiding Comforter fills us with glad\n     sunshine all the time, and there is constantly a power like \"a\n     wall of fire round about us\" warding off all evil.\n\n     Oh, it's glorious and grows better and brighter each day.\n\n       \"Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!\n       Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine!\n       Heir of salvation, purchased of God,\n       Born of His spirit, washed in His blood.\"\n\n        Your fellow brakesman, in Jesus' name,\n                                                     M. L. ODELL.\n     Cincinnati, Ohio.\n\n                            TRANSPORTATION.\n\nPeople sometimes ask me how I am able to get transportation on the\nrailroads. Well, in a few words, it is because I pray to the Lord to\nhave the way open to whatever place He wants me to go, and the\nrailroad men know me and of my work for suffering humanity, and are\nglad to help me in it.\n\n\n                           A KIND CONDUCTOR.\n\nOn July 17, 1903, I was on my way from Washington, D. C., on an\nimportant journey, and the conductor told me the train I was on did\nnot stop at Sherwood, and I wanted to know where I should stop to get\nanother train that would stop there. He told me at Defiance, and when\nwe reached there I got off the train. Just then the conductor looked\nout and called for a porter to \"put that lady back on the train.\" I\nwas bewildered at this. He again called \"put that lady back on the\ntrain.\" I said, \"Isn't this Defiance?\" \"Yes, but I shall put you off\nat Sherwood.\" Who told that conductor to telegraph to headquarters to\nget a permit to stop the train for me? God did it! That conductor will\nnever know how much his act strengthened my faith in God. Dear reader,\ndo you ever think of the hardships and dangers through which these\nrailroad men must pass? We put ourselves in their care without praying\nfor them. I seldom enter a train without praying God to protect the\nrailroad men and passengers, and give them His blessing. He does hear\nand answer prayer. How often the dear Lord has heard my cries for the\nsafety of the trains!\n\nSome of my\n\n\n                MOST INTERESTING GOSPEL SERVICES\n\nhave been held on railway trains. As I was once leaving Chicago over\nthe C. & R. I. R. R. at night, a request was made that I should sing\nfor the passengers. I was conversing with Mrs. Colonel Clark of the\nPacific Garden Mission, Chicago. As she was to soon leave the train I\nsaid I would sing when she had gone. I sang some hymns, and then a\ngentleman requested that I should ask all in the car who were\nChristians to raise their hands. I did so and quite a number responded\nto this, and he then asked all who had raised their hands to give a\nword of testimony. He was the first one to speak and said, \"I am a\nChristian. The last thing before I left my home for Chicago was to\ngather my wife and four little children around me and commit them to\nGod's care and ask for my safe return. I have for years been a stock\ndealer and frequently come to Chicago. There is a young man in our\nneighborhood who is also a dealer in stock, but being unacquainted\nwith the ways of the city, he did not like to go alone and as I was a\nChristian came with me. When there is an opportunity like this given,\nif I did not honor God and show my colors this young man could have no\nconfidence in me. I speak for his special benefit.\" He closed with an\nexhortation to the unsaved to prepare to meet God and requested me to\nsing again. Then one after another arose and spoke. It reminded one of\nAN OLD-FASHIONED METHODIST CLASS MEETING. Prayer, testimonies and\nsinging continued till after midnight. The young stock dealer and\nothers were saved. Toward morning I fell into a sound sleep. I do not\nknow how long I slept, but when I awoke the sun was high and our car\nwas standing alone on the track. A lady passenger spoke to me saying,\n\"How could you sleep during that wreck?\" \"What! has anything\nhappened?\" I said. \"Yes, a wreck,\" she replied. The engine and other\ncars were gone and they were clearing up the wreck. I heard from that\nmeeting years afterwards.\n\nOne night a meeting was held in the open air for the special benefit\nof railroad men. I asked all who wanted to be saved to raise their\nhands; then said, \"Will you not give your hearts to God now?\" One year\nfrom that time while in meeting a man arose and said that he was in\nthe crowd that night, and raised his hand, and then at once looked to\nGod and was saved then and there.\n\n\n            TRAIN SAVED FROM WRECK IN ANSWER TO PRAYER.\n\nThe Lord has often made known to me when the train was in danger. I\ncould see the plots laid by wicked men to wreck the train, and when I\nhave prayed, He, in answer to prayer, has delivered us from harm and\ndeath. He says: \"The very hairs of your head are all numbered,\" and \"I\nwill never leave thee nor forsake thee.\"\n\nAt one time I had been in old Mexico and changing cars at El Paso,\nTexas, I found a heavy trainload of passengers on the way east. I was\nimpressed all night of impending peril. I could not sleep, and walked\nthe floor of the car in silent prayer. I went to the young sister with\nme and said, \"The train is in great danger, and something will happen\nunless the Lord delivers us. The text comes to me so forcibly, 'What,\ncould ye not watch with me one hour?' Watch and pray!\" That night six\ntrain-robbers had determined to wreck and rob the train. They had\nstolen six horses and gone to a lonely place uninhabited for miles\nabout. They bound and gagged the section foreman and his men, then\ntook the switch-key and threw the switch to wreck the train. When they\nsaw the train passing on they tried to hail it with their lanterns,\nbut by some mysterious power of God their lights were put out, so that\nthe engineer did not see them. Then they tried to board the train but\nwere unable to succeed. It was a most remarkable occurrence. They\neither did not open the switch properly and the train set it back to\nits place, or the hand of God closed the switch. The newspapers\npublished quite an account of this incident, from which source the\nabove concerning the robbers was obtained, as they were caught and\nmade confession.\n\n\n                        A TRAIN IN DANGER.\n\nIn July, 1889, I was on my way from St. Joseph, Missouri, to St.\nLouis, having with me a man and his wife. About 1 o'clock in the\nmorning I awoke with awful fear upon me of some impending danger. I\ntold my friends that we must pray for God to save the train, and that\nno power but God's could avert the coming disaster, whatever it might\nbe. Still the horror as of death was upon me, and later in the night\nthe train suddenly stopped. The train men ran out with their lanterns\nand found that the engine had become uncoupled from the cars and just\nin front of the engine was a pile of iron. The iron rails of the track\nwere set so that a wreck would have been the result if God had not\ninterposed. God thwarted the well-laid plans that had been made to\nwreck and rob the train. This was in a lonely place where no help was\nnear, and the robbers would have the best of chances to rob the train.\nOn our return west a similar terror came upon me and I said, \"Pray for\nthis train, or something will happen to it before we reach St. Joe.\" I\nwas terrified all day. Just as the train stopped at the depot our car\nwas wrecked. The front wheels of the car were turned around crosswise\nof the track, tearing up the planks, rails and earth. Such a queer\nlooking wreck, and apparently no reason for it! Yet we had been\nbrought in safety to our journey's end and no one was injured.\n\n\n                   IMPRESSED TO LEAVE THE TRAIN.\n\nAt another time after preaching at Canon City prison in Colorado, we\nhad our baggage checked to Leadville in the same state. We held\nmeetings on the train and some were moved to tears. When the engine\nwhistled for Salida a dreadful feeling of fear and terror overtook me.\nSomething seemed to say to me, \"_Get off the train_.\" I felt it was a\ncommand from the Lord. I told the friends who were with me what the\nwords of the Lord were, and said that we must leave the train. We\nhurriedly left the train without waiting for another warning. I looked\nafter the train as it moved away and said, \"I wonder why I had to\nleave that train. Perhaps not till the judgment will I know.\" We went\non the street and held an open air meeting, and some one invited us to\nhold a service that night in a church. We did so, and God poured out\nhis Spirit on the people. After the meeting we went out and visited\nthe saloons, and spoke to many about their souls. At about 11 o'clock\nat night we returned to the depot and I asked the agent what time the\nnext train would leave for Leadville. He said, \"I don't know. The\ntrain you got off from was terribly wrecked twelve miles up the road.\nThe east-bound train crashed into it, and I have sent out two wrecking\ntrains already.\" I told him of my presentiment of danger, and how God\nhad impressed me to leave that train. He asked me to come into the\noffice and explain my impressions and talk to him. We did so, and\nabout 3 o'clock in the morning the wrecked train backed down to the\ndepot where we were waiting and we again got aboard. I told the\npassengers as they looked at me as I came into the car, \"The Lord\nwarned me of the danger and impressed me to get off the train.\" I have\ntaken the Lord as my guide all these years and He has never forsaken\nme.\n\n\n                          A TELEGRAM RECEIVED.\n\nWaiting for a train where I changed cars I was invited to sit in the\nticket office, as the waiting room was uncomfortable. I was writing at\nthe agent's desk when he handed me a telegram, saying, \"I think this\nis intended for you, Mother.\" It was an announcement of the death of\none of my brothers, and was being sent to another town, having to be\ntransferred here, and the agent seeing my name handed it to me. I\ncould see the hand of God in this.\n\n\n                    HELPED TO CARE FOR WOUNDED MAN.\n\nOnce on my way from Burlington to Ft. Madison, Ia., I told the\nconductor I was impressed to go on that special train. When we were\nabout a mile out of the city, the engine accidentally struck a man and\nhurt him badly. The man was put into the baggage car and as there were\nno seats, I stood behind him and held his head, and after we had gone\ntwelve miles, warm water was secured and I washed the blood from his\nhead and cared for him until we arrived at the station, when they took\nhim to the jail, there being no other place for him, and there I\nhelped the doctor dress his wounds. Then I knew why I was impressed to\ngo on that train.\n\n\n                       CONDUCTOR'S GOD BLESS YOU.\n\nOnce the conductor on a train said to me so kindly, as he assisted me\nfrom the train, \"God bless you; let your good work go on. I gave the\ntracts you gave me to the trainmen--they needed them.\" How this\ncheered me, for I had tried to preach to them on the train, and I\nfeared the scoffs or reproof of the railroad officials. How I do long\nto help and encourage the railroad men--they are so loyal and\nfaithful, and have so much to contend with in their work. \"Be not\novercome of evil, but overcome evil with good.\"\n\n\n                       A WOMAN'S FAITH ENCOURAGED.\n\nOn the way from Philadelphia to New York I was one day led to pass\nquietly through the car giving out tracts. After seating myself, a\nlady came and asked if she might speak with me about the work I was\ndoing. She said, \"If I only knew God could and would heal a person\nwhose mind was shattered, I would give all that I possess. I am\ntroubled about my daughter's grieving over the death of her husband.\"\nI told her God never fails to perform his miracles when we fully\nbelieve and accept God's way of healing the body and soul. She seemed\nmuch blessed and encouraged and kindly invited me to her home. \"As ye\ngo, preach.\" How glad she was to find some one who would tell her\nabout salvation. She was a wealthy lady, as I afterward learned. We\nbecame fast friends and she learned of healing in answer to \"the\nprayer of faith.\"\n\n\n                       RIDING IN PARLOR CAR.\n\nLeaving the Indian School in Indian Territory on one of the coldest\nmornings I ever experienced, myself and sisters were driven by two\nyoung Indian boys to a flag station. We were wrapped in warm blankets\nand hurried to the railroad. We were in danger of freezing, as the\ntrain was long delayed on account of the blizzard and snow drifts, and\nwe sought the only place of shelter--a freight car in which the\nsection foreman and his wife lived, where we shivered with the cold\nuntil the train came in sight.\n\nWe were compelled to stop in the parlor car (a luxury that I never\nindulge in) as platforms of the other cars were too icy to pass from\none car to another while the train was in motion. We were much\nblessed, and I began singing, and praising the Lord. When the train\ncame to a station, we arose to go into the other car, but a gentleman\npassenger called to the conductor and said: \"How much is the fare for\nthese ladies to remain in this car?\" He and his companion paid the\namount required and we were permitted to ride in the parlor car to\nTopeka, Kansas.\n\nMy soul was so blessed that I felt I must go into the other cars and\nhold services. We were invited to go to the diner with friends. When\nwe arrived at the station where dinner was served, one after another\nof the passengers handed me some money. When we came in from dinner I\nknelt down in the car, and was praying in silence, thanking God for\nwhat He had given us, when I felt someone crush some paper in my\nhands. I looked to see what it was and found it was a ten dollar bill,\ngiven by the two gentlemen who had paid our fare in the parlor car. Of\ncourse I was greatly surprised, and as Sister Taylor was kneeling by\nmy side, I said, \"Sister, this must be in answer to your prayer. Did\nyou pray for money?\" She said \"Yes, I prayed for hours last night.\" I\nsaid, \"Why you should have been praying for souls.\" She answered, \"I\nknew you needed money, and no one was giving it to you.\" Thus God\nhears and answers prayers and provides for the needs of his little\nones.\n\nI give below a letter received from one of the gentlemen who gave us\nthe ten dollars who was a prominent business man in Pittsburg,\nPennsylvania:\n\n                                  Pittsburg, Pa., March 25, 1899.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, Tabor, Iowa.\n\n     My Dear Madam: Your card of the 18th duly received and I was glad\n     to hear from you and to have your good wishes, but was especially\n     grateful for your prayers, for I believe in prayer. Do you\n     realize how much a busy man needs the prayers of God's people?\n\n     Brother M., my companion whom you met last fall in Indian\n     Territory, is well and I know will be glad to hear from you. I\n     will see him next week, D. V.\n\n     If you pass through our city on your trip East, and I know of it,\n     would gladly call upon you.\n\n     With best wishes for your welfare, and Mrs. Taylor's, too, I am,\n\n                        Very truly your friend,\n                                                         T. M. N.\n\nThe following brief extract is from a report of a service on the train\nas we were in company with a number of delegates on their way to the\nConvocation of Prayer at Baltimore, in January, 1903:\n\n     We left Indianapolis at 3:05 p. m., Monday. After we started\n     Mother Wheaton, who was with us, started up a song, then went to\n     the front of the car, and standing in the aisle she began\n     preaching to the people. She moved down the aisle still\n     preaching, taking about ten minutes to come through the car. This\n     she did several times, then went through the dining and palace\n     cars. As she told of her prison work, how God could save\n     criminals, we could see tears come into the eyes of the\n     passengers. A U. S. marshal sitting near us became much affected,\n     and made inquiry of Brother S. B. Shaw who the woman was, and\n     said he knew what she said was true, and said he desired to be\n     saved. A wealthy Mexican on the train, whose wife had recently\n     died while he was on a trip to Europe, was also brought under\n     conviction, and would have Sister Wheaton take dinner in the\n     dining car; also had Sisters Wheaton and Shaw take a berth in the\n     sleeper at his expense. I must not forget to tell you that\n     Brother Shaw gave us an excellent talk standing in the aisle of\n     the car.\n\n\n                          FAVOR THE R. R. CO.\n\nI sometimes have an opportunity to do a kindness for the R. R. Co., in\nreturn for the many favors they do for me. At one time I reached the\nrailroad station at Fort Worth, Texas, before my train arrived. While\nwe were waiting for a Santa Fe train, an old lady who was evidently\nnot in her right mind and who had been sent by friends to go alone to\nother friends who lived at a distance, of her own accord tried to\nclimb over one train to get to another and was injured. The injury was\ncaused by her own mental condition and through no fault of the\nrailroad men.\n\nBefore she left us, I wrote a little message of love and put it into\nher hand bag with my name and address on it. In a few days I received\nthe following letter from her attorneys.\n\n                             Fort Worth, Tex., November 21, 1898.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, Tabor, Iowa.\n\n     Dear Madam: We conclude from a kind and sympathetic letter you\n     wrote to Mrs. Harper, the old lady who fell from the platform at\n     the Gulf, Colorado & Santa Fe Railway depot at Fort Worth, Tex.,\n     on Friday night, the 11th day of November, that you likely saw\n     the old lady fall. And perhaps you can tell us how she came to\n     fall and who else saw her when she fell. Mrs. Harper has employed\n     us to sue the railroad company for said injuries. She claims that\n     she walked off of the platform where there were no railings and\n     fell between two freight cars left standing on the track, left so\n     far apart that she could see the railroad car she wanted to board\n     between said opening so left. Will you please write us all you\n     know about the matter, and who else saw it, if any one, and where\n     such person or persons live if you know. By doing so you will\n     greatly oblige,\n\n                              Yours truly,\n                                          WYNNE, MCCART & BOWLIN.\n\nIn reply I assured them that it would be utterly unjust to bring suit\nagainst the railroad company--giving them the facts as far and as\nfully as I knew them. I learned later that this ended the contemplated\nsuit.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XVII.\n\n                        Street and Open Air Work.\n\n\n              THE MASTER'S QUESTIONS.\n\n    Have ye looked for my sheep in the desert,\n      For those who have missed their way?\n    Have ye been in the wild waste places,\n      Where the lost and wandering stray?\n    Have ye trodden the lonely highway,\n      The foul and the darksome street?\n    It may be ye'd see in the gloaming\n      The print of My wounded feet.\n\n    Have ye wept with the broken-hearted\n      In their agony of woe?\n    Ye might hear Me whispering beside you\n      \"'Tis the pathway I often go!\"\n    My brethren, My friends, My disciples,\n      Can ye dare to follow me?\n    Then, wherever the Master dwelleth,\n      There shall the servant be!\n\nMany are the shocking sights and sad experiences I have witnessed in\nstreet and slum work. I have endured hardships and privations,\nsuffered arrests and ridicule, and faced many dangers. But withal, the\nglorious victories have been many and precious souls have been saved:\n\nI might give copies of many permits to hold open air services received\nin the earlier years of my labors, but perhaps these would not be of\ninterest or profit, so I give only a few.\n\n\n                   PERMIT TO PREACH ON BOSTON COMMON.\n\n                 CITY OF BOSTON, EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENT.\n\n     Under Chapter 42, Section 11, of the Revised Ordinances,\n     permission is hereby granted to Mrs. Elizabeth Wheaton, to\n     conduct preaching service on the Common on Sunday, October 27,\n     1889, subject to the directions of the Superintendent of the\n     Common, who will assign a location.\n\n                                              THOMAS NAST, Mayor.\n\n     October 22, 1889.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n            STATE OF LOUISIANA, MAYORALTY OF NEW ORLEANS.\n\n     City Hall, 11th day of December, 1886.\n\n     Permission granted to Elizabeth Wheaton and Agnes Hill to preach\n     the gospel at such localities within the city of New Orleans as\n     they may select; provided that in so doing they are careful not\n     to interfere with the private rights of individuals or those of\n     corporations granted them under municipal ordinances or the\n     statutes of this state. By order of the Mayor.\n\n                                        E. L. BOWER, Chief Clerk.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                          MAYOR'S OFFICE.\n\n                           Jacksonville, Fla., December 29, 1886.\n\n     Permission is hereby granted E. Wheaton and associates to preach\n     the gospel within the city limits at such places as they may\n     select; provided the streets and sidewalks are not obstructed and\n     the rights of private property are not disturbed and there is no\n     violation of City ordinances or statutes of the State.\n\n                                               P. MCQUAID, Mayor.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Galveston, Tex., Jan. 20, 1888.\n\n     To Whom It May Concern:\n\n     Permission is hereby granted to the bearer to hold religious\n     services on the streets anywhere within the corporate limits of\n     the city of Galveston, and the police authorities will lend such\n     protection as is necessary to enforce order at such meetings.\n\n                                R. L. FULTON, Mayor of Galveston.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                       Office of Chief of Police,\n                                    Denver, Colo., June 23, 1888.\n\n     To any Police Officer:\n\n     This woman has permission from the Mayor to hold services on the\n     street.\n\n                                       M. HENNY, Chief of Police.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Sacramento, Cal., Aug. 24, 1888.\n\n     Permission is hereby granted E. Wheaton and associates to preach\n     the gospel within the city limits at such places as they may\n     select, provided the streets and sidewalks are not obstructed and\n     rights of private property are not disturbed, and if not in\n     conflict or violation of the city ordinances.\n\n                                        EUGENE J. GREGORY, Mayor.\n\n\n                       FROM MISS JOSEPHINE COWGILL.\n\n                  Some Years a Missionary in Jerusalem.\n\nThe following is contributed by a dear sister who has spent some years\nas a missionary in Jerusalem, Palestine, and may be known to many of\nour readers:\n\n[Illustration: MISS JOSEPHINE COWGILL.]\n\n     Many years ago, while engaged in missionary work in the city of\n     New Orleans, La., I was one evening attracted by a large\n     gathering of people. In the midst was a woman kneeling on the\n     ground engaged in most earnest prayer. Many in the company were\n     of the worst class of people, yet they were quietly listening and\n     looking on with amazement. We were not accustomed to any one\n     praying on the streets in that manner. This was the first time I\n     had the privilege of meeting dear Sister E. R. Wheaton. I can\n     never forget the impressions made upon myself and others by her\n     prayers, exhortations and songs that evening. Standing near me in\n     that company was a woman who had charge of one of the worst\n     houses of prostitution in the city. Trembling and weeping she\n     said to me \"I never heard anything like that before. That woman\n     makes me feel that I am an awful sinner, and yet she loves me.\"\n     That poor woman went to her house, sent for a Bible and read it\n     and spent the night in bitter repenting for her sins. She was\n     gloriously converted and then called her household together and\n     told them her experience and how the Lord had pardoned her sins\n     and made her happy in His love. She then exhorted them to\n     commence a new life; but if they would not, then they must leave\n     her house.\n\n     While in New Orleans, Sister Wheaton and those in company with\n     her were busily and successfully engaged in mission work among\n     prisoners and others of the worst class. Some years afterward she\n     again visited that city and the Lord greatly blessed her work.\n     One night, on a store-box in front of a saloon, she preached to a\n     large crowd. The saloonkeeper became very uneasy and called a\n     policeman to \"take her away.\" He came, but found it quite hard\n     work to get her down and to another place. The people wanted to\n     hear her. She sang a song, the chorus of which was, in part:\n\n       \"If to Jesus you are true,\n       There's a glory waits for you,\n           In the beautiful, the glad forever.\"\n\n     Then with clasped hands she stood quietly gazing upward, with\n     tears rolling down her cheeks. Then with much feeling she said:\n     \"I am homesick for heaven.\" I can never forget how those words\n     impressed me and others at that time.\n\n     Some years after I again met Sister Wheaton in Los Angeles,\n     California, where her work was like it had been in New Orleans.\n     At one time, when she had kindly offered me the privilege of\n     going with her to some other points, I made inquiry about how I\n     should take my trunk. She replied: \"Sister Josephine, pilgrims\n     for God do not need a trunk. One valise is enough.\" Many times I\n     have thought of that reply and the good it did me. I have never\n     known of a more earnest and self-sacrificing Christian worker\n     than Sister Wheaton. The results of her labors as she has gone\n     forth \"weeping and bearing precious seeds,\" cannot be fully\n     known until with rejoicing she comes \"bringing sheaves with her.\"\n     In loving remembrance of her, I am,\n\n     Yours in His blessed service.\n\n                                               JOSEPHINE COWGILL.\n\n     Haifo, Palestine.\n\n\n                        MY FIRST STREET MEETING.\n\nMy first street meeting was in Washington, D. C., near the old\npostoffice. I had spent the day in the jail, alms-house and hospitals.\nI was then a stranger in the city. Some one asked me to go to a hall\nwhere there was a little mission. We did so, and found they had gone\nto the open air meeting. When we arrived the meeting was in progress,\none after another stepping out to testify or sing. No opportunity was\noffered me to take any part in the meeting, as no woman was allowed to\ntestify. I looked to God in silent prayer to open some way for me to\nspeak to the people. At the close of their service I spoke, saying,\n\"The Lord has sent me with a message for you dear people, and now the\nfriends have closed their meeting and we will not detain them, as they\ndoubtless have other engagements.\" I began to sing and God filled my\nsoul with glory. The needs of those poor hungry souls rose before me,\nas I sang and prayed, and the message of love came welling up in my\nsoul. I spoke to them of righteousness, the coming Judgment and\neternity. I had held meetings in many of the principal cities of\nAmerica, some in Europe and other countries. But that night God\nanointed me for street preaching and for work in slums, dives and\nsaloons.\n\nClosing the meeting, I thought of being alone on the street at night\nwith scarcely any money and not knowing my way back to my lodging\nplace. I said, \"Oh, Lord, you know all about it.\" Walking along I came\nto the mission and stepping in I took a seat near the door. While I\nsat praying, a brother rose and told the circumstances of the street\nmeeting I had held, and that one of the worst men in the city had been\nconverted through its instrumentality. The man had told the brother\nthat God had saved him and he was going home to write eight letters to\nhis people, some of them in this and some in the old country, to tell\nthem what great things God had done for him. God knew I was there and\nsent the message to encourage me. After the service in the hall had\nclosed a young lady who proved to be the daughter of the landlady\nwhere I had been staying, came to me and walked to her home with me. I\ncould not have found my way alone, not having their number, but God\ncared for me.\n\nSome extracts are given from reports of the work which were published\nat different points during the first few years of my labors:\n\n\n                          CONVERTED TO CHRIST.\n\n           THE CASE OF THE UNFORTUNATE WOMAN--CARD FROM MR. M.\n\n     Editor Hawk-Eye: Last evening at about seven o'clock Mrs.\n     Wheaton, the prison evangelist, and another lady of the\n     evangelists and myself held a meeting on the levee. Mrs. Wheaton,\n     who spoke on the future consequence of sin with unusual\n     earnestness, had the effect of breaking down Mrs. A. into tears.\n     Mrs. Wheaton went up to her and spoke to her. In a few moments\n     the unfortunate woman broke into ecstasies of joy and commenced\n     to leap around in a circle. For ten minutes she kept up praising\n     God and leaping, when suddenly she leaped through the great crowd\n     around, some now being horrified, who, like many poor,\n     unfortunate people, never saw a sudden conversion. She ran up\n     Jefferson street, where she was arrested and locked up.\n\n     Had the woman been rich or popular she would have been kindly\n     treated, but being one of the unfortunate women of our city she\n     was locked up in an unclean, old filthy cell, with a bunk for a\n     bed. The police were informed that the woman was converted and a\n     lady offered to take her home last night. But they kept her in\n     that terrible cell with inmates in adjoining cells using obscene\n     language. It is a sin and disgrace for the city fathers to\n     continue to have women locked up with men in the same line of\n     cells with such a horrifying stench and wooden bunks. The city\n     police are guilty of an outrageous act in confining the woman in\n     such a cell, when they ought to have given her better quarters,\n     as they had the opportunity. This morning she was brought out\n     before the police court; the woman still testified that she had\n     salvation before that court and crowd of people. But good came\n     out of it all as she witnessed a grand confession to the police\n     court and people who never heard the gospel. She was, by the\n     consent of Captain S., taken to Mrs. H.'s and is doing well and\n     is converted. Last evening's _Gazette_ stated that the woman went\n     crazy by attending the street meetings and would be examined\n     before the board of commissioners of insanity, which is every\n     word of it untrue. The woman is sane and was not before any\n     board.\n\n            A. H. MERTZ, in Burlington _Hawk-Eye_, Jan. 19, 1887.\n\n\n                       A WONDERFUL CONVERSION.\n\nIn San Francisco a drunken girl came to my meeting on the street so\ndesperate and dangerous that even the police at times seemed afraid of\nher. She seemed to be a veritable Magdalene. I was impressed with the\nwords, \"Down in the human heart, crushed by the tempter, feelings lie\nburied that grace can restore.\" How could it be done? I dealt\nfaithfully with her and went away, returning to the city ten months\nlater. She came again to my meetings, once very drunk as she usually\nwas. I talked to her about her need of salvation and she was finally\nconvicted. She waited at the close of the meeting to speak with me,\nbut at first would not yield to God. Finally she sobered up and was\nwonderfully converted. I took her to my room and cared for her, and as\nshe was a desperate character, and liable to do injury both to life\nand property, the Rescue Home at San Francisco refused to take her,\nso I took all the risks myself and took her to Helena, Montana, and\nleft her at the Rescue Home at that place.\n\nThe following is an account of work in Seattle soon after this as\nreported by a paper of that city:\n\n\n                      THE PRISON EVANGELIST.\n\n    MRS. ELIZABETH R. WHEATON CARRYING FORWARD HER MISSION\n                            IN SEATTLE.\n\n     About three o'clock yesterday afternoon two women, one quite\n     elderly and the other about 25 years of age, whose dress and\n     demeanor bespoke them to be missionaries, walked into the\n     sheriff's office and asked Jailer Leckie if they might hold a\n     short religious service in the county jail. The urbane jailor\n     replied that he thought \"a little prayin' wouldn't do them coves\n     any harm,\" but they were eating and couldn't be interrupted for\n     ten or fifteen minutes.\n\n     \"Then we'll wait,\" said Mrs. Wheaton, laying her black shawl\n     aside and taking a seat, in which she was followed by her sister\n     evangelist.\n\n     \"Perhaps you would like to know who we are,\" said the elder of\n     the two women to a reporter who happened to be present. \"Here is\n     my card,\" and she handed over a small piece of pasteboard on\n     which was printed with a rubber stamp, \"Elizabeth R. Wheaton,\n     Prison Evangelist. Jesus is Coming Soon; Prepare to Meet Thy\n     God.\"\n\n     \"That will tell who I am,\" continued the evangelist....\n     \"Criminals and fallen women are the ones I try to reach. I would\n     rather try to save a murderer or fallen woman than your smooth,\n     respectable hypocrites, every time. Mary and I have just come\n     through from san Francisco.\" * * *\n\n     At this moment Jailer Leckie announced that the prisoners were\n     through eating, and the two women went below to pray with them.\n     The younger woman held back, saying that she was afraid some of\n     her old associates might be there, but she was urged on by her\n     protector and a few minutes later the words of \"Nearer My God to\n     Thee,\" from two female voices, came floating through the prison\n     bars. The prisoners gave them respectful hearing, and one or two\n     seemed to be affected by the earnest words of counsel that fell\n     from the lips of the evangelist. Later in the evening they held\n     street services for the benefit of the workingmen near the Armory\n     and relief tents.\n\n\n                           BECAME A PREACHER.\n\nOne of the worst women I ever knew was converted in the spring of 1885\non the streets of Kansas City, Mo., where I was holding meetings. She\ncame to the meeting to abuse and ridicule me. She heard my voice, she\nsaid, two blocks away, and became convicted. She came to where I was\nstanding on a box preaching. I asked if there was any one there who\nwould seek God and live a Christian life. I said if there was one\nsuch, let them come and kneel with me by the box and I would pray for\nthem. She knelt there and cried mightily to God for mercy. But she\nwent away unsaved and prayed and wept day and night. She could neither\neat nor sleep. She saw herself a lost sinner. Her father had been a\nminister of the Gospel, but had died when she was very young. She had\ndrifted to this wicked city in search of work, and you may know the\nrest. For it is but the story of many a poor orphan girl in her\nstruggle for bread. She fell as thousands fall with none to pity or\ncare. She was driven from one sin to another, until at last disgraced\nand filled with shame, she had tried twelve times to take her own\nlife. Thus I found her a miserable woman. She came again to the\nmeeting, this time alone, and was gloriously saved, and is still saved\nso far as I know. She became a successful preacher of righteousness,\nfor she knew how to reach such as she had been. She became a terror to\nevil doers, brave in danger, and hopeful before discouraging\nobstacles. She has since told me she has saved many young girls' lives\nand characters by taking them in and giving them food and shelter\nwhen every other door except brothels and saloons was closed against\nthem. Bless God for the homes open to shelter and protect the\nunfortunate girls.\n\n\n                        THE BLIND ENCOURAGED.\n\nOne day while traveling in Montana, I went into a smoking car to hold\na little Gospel meeting, singing and distributing tracts, when I found\na blind lady there who seemed to be alone and neglected. I spoke to\nher kindly about her soul and invited her to go with me into the other\ncar. I said, \"I am always glad to do anything I can to help a blind\nperson. My grandmother was blind several years before her death.\" She\naccepted it all gratefully and seemed very sorry to part from me when\nwe changed cars. I exhorted her to a life of Christian service and to\nmeet me in Heaven.\n\nI never expected to meet her again, but some two years later I was\nholding an open air meeting in California and a lady said, \"Would you\nallow me to testify?\" and I said, \"Certainly, if you are a Christian.\nWould be glad to have you.\" When she began to speak she said: \"This\nlady don't know me, but I know her. We met once. Although I have never\nseen her, as I am deprived of sight, yet I know her. I met with her on\nthe train one day,\" and she related the foregoing facts, stating that\nmy kindness had won her heart and she had never forgotten my advice,\nand was now living a Christian life.\n\n\n                  FORBIDDEN TO PREACH ON THE STREET.\n\nOne night when I attempted to hold a street meeting in F----,\nCalifornia--where I had been holding services for a few nights--the\nmarshal said he had forbidden me to preach and sing on the streets. A\ngentleman looked up the law books and returned saying that it was not\ncontrary to the laws of that city at that time to hold a gospel\nmeeting on the street and that I could proceed, but the marshal came\nand forbade me, very unkindly and impolitely. At this crisis a\ngentleman came up and said that a saloon keeper down the street\nrequested me to come and hold a meeting in front of his place. I said:\n\"A gentleman has requested that we come and hold a meeting in front of\nhis business place. We will go there, please,\" but the marshal in a\nvery ungentlemanly way said I was not to hold a meeting on the street\nany place in that city.\n\nI said we would go to a hall which had been opened for gospel\nservices. It was several blocks away and only a few of the immense\ncrowd would walk that distance. When I reached the place I sat down\nbehind the door and cried and thought, what shall I do? I was sure the\nLord wanted me to hold a meeting on the street. The blind lady\nmentioned in the previous incident was in the congregation and began\nto sing, \"He is able to deliver thee,\" and I soon had the victory. The\nsame sister had attempted to sing on the street, as this was her only\nmeans of supporting her old mother and sickly husband, and the marshal\ncame along and without any warning pushed her off the street. A couple\nof strange gentlemen came and kindly led her to a place of safety. I\nheard soon after this that this man became suddenly insane and it took\ntwo men to hold him and take him to the jail and from there to the\ninsane asylum.\n\n\n                    THOUGHT THEY SAW A GHOST.\n\nOnce, in a city, another lady and myself were walking along a very\nlonesome street late at night. When passing a large dark building she\nremarked that it was a very dangerous gambling den. My heart burned\nwithin me. I was seized with an impulse to go in that place of\niniquity and warn those men of their souls' danger. No sooner thought\nthan done! I was soon in the room which proved to be vacant, but I\ncould see light through the cracks of a closed door leading into the\nnext room. I passed quietly across the room and opened the door and\nstood confronting a number of rough looking men who were seated at a\nlong gambling table. Without a word I crossed the room with noiseless\nfootsteps and dropping my Bible on the table and falling on my knees\nbefore them began to cry to God in their behalf. The men seemed to\ntake an unexpected view of the situation, and rising simultaneously to\ntheir feet, they rushed wildly from the room upsetting their chairs in\ntheir haste, and I was left alone. The next day the report went out\nthat a ghost had been seen there the night before, and some of the men\nvowed they would never touch a pack of cards again as long as they\nlived--that money could not hire them to do it. Truly \"The wicked flee\nwhen no man pursueth.\"\n\n\n                         HURT BY A SALOONKEEPER.\n\nWhile I was at Springfield, Ill., I was led one Sabbath to go to the\npark to hold a gospel meeting, taking two sisters with me. We had a\ngood meeting, and returning to the city I asked the street car\nconductor if there was another park where I could hold services. He\ndirected me to a place in another suburb. We went there, and in a\ngrove I saw some tables and men and women sitting at them, drinking. I\nbegan to sing a hymn, thinking we were in a public park, when a man\nrushed out of a house toward me, saying, \"You shan't sing here.\" I\nsaid, \"Please let me finish this verse.\" He replied, \"No, I won't\nallow any one to sing here.\" I knelt in prayer. He did not say I\nshould not pray. The sisters were looking at him, and said he hurried\ntoward me in great anger. The sisters prayed to God to spare me. The\nman jerked me and pushed me over, when some of the men at the tables\ncalled out to him, \"Let go of that woman. You don't know who she is.\nWe know her.\" The men in the meantime running to us, laid hold on the\nsaloonkeeper and took him away. I was very much hurt. I could not walk\nalone. The park proved to be a beer garden. We went to the nearest\nhouse and asked permission to rest till I should gain strength to\nreturn to the city. The people where we stopped were very indignant,\nand said the man had no license to sell liquor on Sunday, and was\nviolating the city ordinance. There were no arrests. The whisky men\nmust have their own way in this land of American liberty. They can\nruin lives, break up homes, blight the prospects of the best people on\nearth and fill the prisons, almshouses, criminal insane asylums,\nbrothels, graves of paupers, and doom souls by the multitude, and who\ncares? Who votes to put down the saloons? Who tries to save mothers'\ngirls as well as mothers' boys, husbands and wives? Even the parents\nare overtaken by the demon of strong drink and sink into the most\ndepraved conditions in order to satisfy their craving for alcohol. O,\nthe awfulness of it all! Sisters, brothers, are you and I clear? Are\nwe doing our best to stop this horrible traffic in whisky and girls,\nfor one of these places can scarcely exist without the other. How many\ngirls and boys are sacrificed yearly to fill the saloonkeepers'\ncoffers and fill up hell? Think of these things.\n\n\n                       WARNED TO LEAVE THE CITY.\n\nUpon entering a town in Mississippi I inquired of a woman if she could\ndirect me to a hotel, and she told me her sister and her husband kept\none and I would be made comfortable with them.\n\nWe went to the hotel and left our luggage and went at once to hold an\nopen air meeting. The singing attracted a considerable crowd, and at\nthe close of the service many came to shake hands with me and thank me\nfor the meeting, among whom were a number of colored people, who\nthanked the Lord in their characteristic way and asked me to preach\nagain which I agreed to do that night.\n\nAs we turned our steps toward our hotel, we noticed a colored man\nwalking a short distance ahead of us who, when we were out of hearing\nof the crowd, turned and said to us: \"You women don't intend to hold\nanother meeting on the street to-night?\" and I said, \"Certainly, I\nshall obey God.\" He said, \"You have shaken hands with the colored\npeople and the white people are angry, and they will mob you. I came\nalong here for the purpose of warning you. If they saw me talking with\nyou my life would be in danger.\" I told him I was not afraid, thanked\nhim and told him I would do as the Lord led.\n\nOn reaching our hotel the landlord asked if I intended to hold another\nmeeting on the street that night, and I told him I did. He said that\nthe townspeople had forbidden me to hold another service and that I\nwould have to leave his hotel at once, because I had shaken hands with\nthe colored people. We told him we had made the appointment and we\nshould keep our word. He went to his wife and told her to go and tell\nthose women to leave the house and take the train, as we had\nassociated with the colored people and the white people would not\nallow us to remain in town. She replied that we had paid our money and\nour money was as good as anybody's, and that we were respectable,\nhonest women and she was going to treat us as such.\n\nWhen we went down the street we heard a noise as of a mob, and we went\npraying the Lord to show us what to do, and He showed us our life was\nin danger and to step one side into the colored people's church where\nGod's presence was revealed in mighty power and souls were convicted\nand converted.\n\nIn the morning two colored women called upon me, saying they had come\nto warn me and assist me to the train. One of them said that two\nnights before she had a terrible dream about a woman coming to preach\non the streets and was so impressed that she sent her husband four\nmiles to see if there was anything in it. This was the man that warned\nus that night. When he went home and told her what he had seen and\nheard, she dreamed again and the Lord told her to come and help us out\nof town, as the people would take my life. They carried our luggage\nand showed us to the train and got us safely on board, and with a \"God\nbless you, Honey, we's prayin' for you,\" they were gone, and we went\non our way with thankful hearts for our Lord's protecting care.\n\n\n                              IN JAIL.\n\nI have several times been arrested for holding services in the open\nair, but have been taken to prison but twice--once in Glasgow,\nScotland, as related elsewhere, and once in Belleville, Illinois.\n\nIn 1889, Sister Anna Kinne wrote me from Belleville that they were\nholding meetings at that place, but had seen but little stir, that it\nseemed to be a hard field, and that she believed the Lord wanted me to\ncome and help them in the meetings. I was, at the time, in\nMississippi, but after praying over the matter I felt that I should\ngo to Belleville in answer to her request.\n\nThe first Sabbath after reaching there I tried to hold services in the\nopen air, but was stopped by policemen. I tried again with the same\nresults. Then I went to the mayor, but was refused permission to hold\nany such meetings. When I asked him if he would take the\nresponsibility on the day of judgment, he said, \"Yes.\" I then went to\nthe jail and held services, and the sheriff kindly inquired about my\nwork and showed considerable interest, and took down some notes. I\nthen asked him for permission to hold meetings on the court house\nsteps. This was readily granted, and I took Sister Kinne with me. The\nmarshal of the town had bitterly opposed my work, and while we were\nsinging he very rudely and unceremoniously came and took me by the arm\nand dragged me down from the steps.\n\nI told him that the sheriff had given me permission to hold services,\nbut he was very angry and refused to let me go on.\n\nI said to those who had gathered, \"We will have no open air meeting,\nbut come to Buchanan Hall to-night, and we will have a meeting there.\"\n\nI think it was the following night that I was impressed just before\nthe opening of our services, to sing a hymn, standing in the mission\ndoor. I spoke to Sister Kinne of this and she said, \"God bless you,\nSister Wheaton, I will pray for you.\"\n\nI went quietly down to the door and was standing there singing an\nold-time hymn, when out of the darkness there came two policemen.\nWithout saying a word they took hold of me and dragged me along the\nstreet. I had no bonnet on, and my shawl was dragging along in the\nmud. I said, \"Please let me get my shawl, and will you please let me\nask one of the ladies at the mission to go with me?\" But they refused\nand seemed glad to think that I was being disgraced. As I met two or\nthree Christian people, one of them spoke kindly to me and I replied\nthat I was suffering for Jesus' sake. \"You seem to be well acquainted\nwith the men,\" one of the policemen said. \"No,\" I said, \"only with a\nfew Christians.\"\n\nWhen we arrived at police headquarters they gave in the report that I\nwas on the street holding a meeting and was having a row, etc., which\nwas, of course, utterly false.\n\nI was, of course, surprised at the treatment I was receiving. I opened\nmy Bible, which I still held, and began reading in silence. The\nofficer said, \"Are you making all of this ado and trouble?\" I replied,\n\"I was standing in our mission door singing.\" He said, \"Will you give\nbail for your good behavior?\" I said, \"I have no money for bail.\" Then\nhe asked me if I had no friends. I told him I was a stranger in the\ncity. \"Then,\" he said, \"I will have to send you to jail, or what will\nyou do?\" I said I did not know. He then told another policeman to take\nme to the jail across the square, and only a few blocks away. This\npoliceman said to some boys who were standing outside, \"You boys stay\nhere, we do not want a mob.\" But the marshal said, \"Go along boys. She\nwants notoriety--give it to her.\" And so I went to the jail with a mob\ncrying after me.\n\nArriving at the jail the kind jailor was shocked to see me in the\nofficer's charge, and said, \"You are not a prisoner?\" I said, \"Yes, I\nwas singing in our mission door, but they arrested me.\" His wife came\nin and kindly said, \"Come into the parlor, and I will make ready for\nyou the spare bedroom.\" I was, of course, surprised and deeply\ntouched. \"No, indeed,\" I said, \"I am a prisoner. Take me into the\ncell with the other women.\" Her little daughter came in and knelt down\nby my side and kissed my hand, saying how very sorry she was for me.\nIt was on a Christmas eve, and the child was going to the Christmas\ntree.\n\nSoon the sheriff came in in a hurry and said, \"You are a free woman!\"\nHe, finding I had been arrested, had notified friends who had given\nbail and secured my release. Not understanding the sheriff, I said,\n\"No, I am here in disgrace, and I want you to put me in the woman's\ncell.\" But he insisted that I was free. Then I said, \"They have put me\nhere in disgrace, and I want some one to come and take me to our\nmission, as it is dark.\" They then sent for someone to come for me,\nand such a shout as went up when I again entered the mission hall. One\ngood old Christian friend said, \"I told you that if she was a woman of\nGod, and I knew she was, she would return to the hall before the\nmeeting was over.\"\n\nIt seems that a reporter who was at the police station at the time of\nmy arrest and heard the abuse of the officers had hurried to the\nsheriff's office, and he, as I have said, had secured my release.\n\nWe give here a verbatim copy of the paper signed by friends, the\noriginal of which I still have in my possession. Somehow the case was\ndismissed, and I was never brought to trial:\n\n\n                    VERBATIM COPY OF A RECOGNIZANCE.\n\n                           (12th, 24th, 1899.)\n\n     State of Illinois, St. Clair County, ss.\n\n     This day personaly appeared before the undersigned, William\n     Bornmann, one of the Justices of the Peace in and for said\n     County, Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, James West and Wm. Meyer, and jointly\n     and severally acknowledged themselves to owe and be indebted unto\n     the People of the State of Illinois, in the sum of Twenty-five\n     Dollars, to be levied on their goods and chattels, lands and\n     tenements, if default be made in the premises and conditions\n     below, to-wit:\n\n     Whereas, The above bounden, Elizabeth R. Wheaton, was, on the\n     24th day of December, A. D. 1889, arrested for violation of the\n     city ordinance, was adjudged and required by said Justice of the\n     Peace to give bonds, as required by the statute in such cases,\n     made and provided, for her appearance to answer to said charge.\n     Now the conditions of this recognizance is such that if the above\n     bounden, Elizabeth R. Wheaton, shall personally appear and be\n     before me, in Belleville, on the 27th day of December, A. D.\n     1889, at 9 a. m., and from day to day, and from term to term, and\n     from day to day of each term hereafter, until discharged by order\n     of said Court, then and there to answer to the said People of the\n     State of Illinois on said charge of violation of the city\n     ordinance and then and there answer and abide the order and\n     judgment of said Court, and thence not depart the same without\n     lawful permission, then and in that case this recognizance is to\n     become void; otherwise to be and remain in full force and virtue.\n\n     As witness our hands and seals, this 24th day of December, A. D.\n     1889.\n\n     Taken, entered into, acknowledged and approved before me, this\n     24th day of December, 1899.\n\n                                              WM. BORNMANN, J. P.\n     Wilhelm Meyer, [L. S.]\n     Jas. A. West, [L. S.]\n\nThis occurrence caused a great deal of excitement at the time. Some\ntime after I met one of the editors of one of the principal papers of\nthe town, and he stated that a serious calamity had overtaken all\nthose who were active in the opposing and persecuting me, and\nmentioned some who had died and others upon whom God's judgments\nseemed to have fallen.\n\nThe following was taken from a paper published at Belleville:\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton, a well known prison evangelist who has\n     labored in nearly all of the principal prisons of the United\n     States, was arrested Tuesday evening by Policemen S. and S.,\n     while she was engaged in conducting a song service, standing in\n     the door at the entrance to Buchanan Hall, where a series of\n     meetings are being held by two other evangelists, Mr. and Mrs. S.\n     D. Kinne. The officers, on arriving on the scene, ordered Mrs.\n     Wheaton to stop singing, but as she paid no attention to their\n     command, she was at once arrested and hurried off to the police\n     station, where she was questioned by the captain of police and\n     the city marshal, and a little later she was removed to the\n     county jail, but through the courtesy of the jailor she was not\n     locked up in a cell. A complaint of disturbing the peace was made\n     against her before Justice B., and a hearing was fixed for\n     tomorrow before him, and a bond for her appearance was duly\n     executed; but while these formal proceedings were being attended\n     to Sheriff R., having heard of Mrs. Wheaton's incarceration in\n     the county jail, repaired to the institution, immediately ordered\n     her release, as there was no authority for holding her there, and\n     when the officer from Justice B.'s court arrived with the bail\n     bond for Mrs. Wheaton's signature, he was chagrined to find that\n     the lady had been released by order of the sheriff. No further\n     attempt was made to arrest her, and it is probable that the\n     matter will be dropped. Mrs. Wheaton is an elderly lady and is\n     deeply devoted to Christian work, especially among the\n     unfortunates confined in jails and prisons, and she has a large\n     number of testimonials as to her character and work from prison\n     officials, railway managers and others in all parts of the\n     country. Many prominent citizens expressed themselves yesterday\n     as deeply regretting the action of the officers in arresting Mrs.\n     Wheaton. The same lady, by written permission of Sheriff R.,\n     attempted to hold religious services from the court house steps\n     on Sunday evening last, but she was forced to desist by the city\n     marshal. Mrs. Wheaton applied to Mayor B. recently for permission\n     to hold open-air religious meetings on the streets, but was\n     denied the privilege on the ground that considerable disorder had\n     been occasioned some months ago by the holding of such meetings\n     by members of the Salvation Army, who held forth in Belleville\n     for a time. The action of the mayor in refusing to allow the\n     evangelist to hold open-air meetings, and the arrest of Mrs.\n     Wheaton while engaged in conducting a song service in the door\n     of Buchanan Hall, where the revival services are held, is\n     causing a great deal of severe criticism, owing to the toleration\n     of the parading of the principal streets by brass bands on\n     Sundays, as well as other days, to draw audiences for minstrel\n     shows, etc., the gathering of crowds on the public square by\n     street fakirs, patent medicine peddlers, quack doctors and\n     others, who deal out rough jokes, etc., in tones loud enough to\n     be heard blocks away.\n\n     Belleville, Dec. 26, 1888.\n\n\n\n\n                            CHAPTER XVIII.\n\n                             Rescue Work.\n\n\n      A Mother's Plea for Her Fallen Daughter.\n\n    So tenderly reared in the pure country air,\n      So innocent, gracious and true,\n    A sweet loving daughter, so gentle and fair.\n      Of the great wicked world naught she knew,\n    She roamed on the hillside and plucked the sweet flowers,\n      Nor far from my sight did she stray,\n      Till a shy cunning charmer invaded her bowers,\n      And stole my loved treasure away.\n\n    With words fair and lovely he won her young heart,\n    Then wooed her far from the home nest,\n    Then hastily pressed to the city's great mart,\n      My darling he tore from my breast;\n    So simple, confiding, ne'er dreaming of harm.\n      She laid her young life at his feet,\n    And the foul, venomed viper pierced her heart with a thorn,\n      And left her to die in the street.\n\n    All wounded and bleeding and covered with shame,\n      And knowing not wither to go,\n    In the haunts of the vilest she cringed her away,\n      To hide her disgrace and her woe;\n    Could I know she had gone from this cold, cruel world,\n      My grief would be easy to bear,\n    But to satiate vile passions her life-blood is sold,\n      And my broken heart pleads in my prayer.\n\n    Oh, bring back my darling, a poor bruised thing,\n      The victim of Satan's deceit,\n    O tell her I love her, though cursed by the fiend\n      That crushed her to hell 'neath his feet.\n    O pity my daughter, my poor fallen one,\n      Ye who have daughters so fair,\n    And shield not the monster who spoiled my loved one\n      And drove my poor heart to despair.\n\n    Chicago, Ill.\n\n                                            --MARY WEEMS CHAPMAN.\n\nFor some years I have been quite intimately associated with friends\nwho have, perhaps, the largest Rescue Home in the world. I am told\nthat they have taken in more girls than any other Home of the kind.\nOver 1,250 girls have there been confined and never have they lost\none of these young mothers by death. But, oh, it is a sad sight to see\nthem, day after day carrying their load of sorrow in their hearts.\nOften when I am there, as I manifest toward them my love and sympathy,\nthey tell me their story of woe sad as was the cry of Eve when\nbanished from the presence of God. She yielded to Satan's devices\nbecause she believed the voice of Satan rather than the voice of God.\nShe became an outcast--and so our sisters are still being deceived by\nthe devil in human form and become outcasts from all that is good.\nSome of them have been won by a mess of pottage, a mere bauble or a\ngewgaw. Others have the promise of love--that which every human heart\ncraves. These believe, trust, yield and are ruined and some of them\nare so young! so ignorant! Then there are some who have been basely\nbetrayed or brutally forced and then left to bear alone their shame\nand disgrace--for, alas! the \"traffic in girls\" is not an imaginary\nthing, but an awful reality.\n\nO that the good people of our fair land would awaken and see that\njustice is done in behalf of the helpless and innocent! Prevention is\nbetter than cure. Let us guard the children and put down every\ninfluence that would tend to demoralize either our boys or girls! But\nin the meantime, let us do all within our power to lift up the fallen\nand win back those who have gone astray and share the burden and\nsorrow of those who suffer through no fault of their own.\n\nThose who have been daring in sin often make the most gifted,\nconsecrated and valiant workers for God and souls when truly and fully\nsaved. I bless the Lord for the privilege of seeking and finding some\nof these \"diamonds in the rough.\" I have known many Christian workers\nwho had once been criminals or fallen, but who had been rescued by\nsome one who had a knowledge of human nature and a heart filled with\nthe love of God who told them of the love of Christ and His wonderful\npower to save. O when we all meet in the great Hereafter what a time\nof rejoicing there will be among the rescuers and the rescued.\n\n\n                        DRUNKEN WOMEN AND MEN.\n\nI find hundreds of men and women, many young women, in drunkenness and\ncrime, and the most open daring sins. In one of the largest drinking\ndens in the world I asked the proprietor if I might sing a hymn, and\nhe gave his consent. I was obliged to go down stairs and through many\nrooms and hallways and then up a dark stairway to the platform where\nthe orchestra was playing. When they ceased I sang a hymn which\ntouched their hearts and they cheered the singing. I offered a prayer\nand they all seemed to appreciate it. There were hundreds of _men_\nonly, drinking, miners and others. Then I went where there were both\nmen and women drinking, and sang and prayed with them. At near\nmidnight, while I was engaged in prayer, one of the poor, unfortunate\ngirls clasped my hand and put a piece of silver in it, and stood\nholding my hand till I rose. She cried and spoke of her desire to be\ngood. She was reminded of her old home and her mother. The proprietor\nthen told me I must leave, as he found he would lose her from his den.\nHe said he was once a Christian himself, and on coming west, saw the\nmoney to be made in that kind of business, and fell, and went deep in\nsin, leading others down with himself.\n\n\n                         ASSAULTED IN A DIVE.\n\nWhile in San Pedro, California, I went, one night, into a saloon to\ninvite the men to a gospel meeting at the mission on the same block,\nand the keeper sprang up from his gambling table, where he was engaged\nwith several others in a game of some kind, and rushing towards me,\nviolently grabbed me by the arms, and then with both hands clutching\nme, rushed me to the door, using vile and insulting epithets to me as\nhe went. At the door a lady said, \"This is a public house; you dare\nnot throw people out who have done you no harm.\" He finally released\nhis Satanic grasp upon me. I had only spoken a few kindly words to two\nyoung men standing at the bar in the act of raising their glasses to\ntheir lips. I had just said, \"Don't drink it, boys, please don't,\"\nwhen the assault was made. As the saloonist rushed at me, I said,\n\"Don't touch me, please; I will go out.\" But he seemed fiendishly\nhappy in injuring and insulting a helpless old woman, who only wished\nto do them all good, and see them saved in Heaven at last. The only\nexcuse he ever made was that he thought I was Carrie Nation.\nCommenting on this occurrence, a Los Angeles paper contained the\nfollowing item:\n\n     San Pedro, March 29.--\"Mother\" Wheaton, a well known prison\n     evangelist, was roughly assaulted by John Wilkins, a Front street\n     saloonkeeper, shortly after seven o'clock last evening. Mrs.\n     Wheaton was preaching to a large gathering in front of Wilkins'\n     joint, and hearing loud cursing within, the aged reformer\n     entered, intending to invite the blasphemers to Peniel Mission,\n     where services are held every evening. She had scarcely passed\n     inside the doors of the dive, when Wilkins rushed forward, seized\n     her and thrust her backward. At the same time he applied vile\n     epithets to her, shouting angrily: \"Get out of here, woman, and\n     be quick about it!\"\n\n     So badly was Mrs. Wheaton injured that she was unable to return\n     to the mission without assistance. She is confined to her bed and\n     is suffering severe pains from the shock.\n\n     Wilkins explained today that he mistook Mrs. Wheaton for Carrie\n     Nation, whom the former resembles. No arrests have been made.\n\nIn a city where I had been preaching the Gospel, a messenger came\nstating that a young girl had cut her throat. It was an extremely hot\nday and I had to walk a long distance across the city. Arriving at the\nhouse they told me that no one was allowed to go in. But I went right\nin and everybody stood back. Kneeling down by the poor girl I took her\nhand already growing cold in death. Poor child! Like thousands of\nothers, she had been disappointed in life. The one who had plighted\nhis troth had broken her heart, and rather than bear her shame she\npreferred death. Then and there I had the privilege of pointing this\nbeautiful girl to Christ who said, \"Neither do I condemn thee. Go and\nsin no more,\" and He who never turns anyone away heard and answered\nprayer.\n\nOne day I held a meeting in the Crittenden Home for Fallen Girls, in\nWashington. They all seemed so glad to hear me. (There were thirty\ngirls.) They were deeply moved. After the meeting closed I took each\nby the hand and exhorted them to live pure and holy lives. And with\ntears in their eyes they promised to try and serve the Lord. One dear\nlittle girl in a short dress (fourteen years old), clung to me crying,\nand said Jesus had saved her just then, in the meeting, and she would\nbe a good girl and live for Heaven. I clasped her to my heart and\nthought what Jesus said about him who offends \"one of these little\nones.\" Some heartless wretch had ruined the girl and left her to die\nalone. \"Vengeance is _mine_, _I_ will repay, saith the Lord.\"\n\n\n                            A GIRL SAVED.\n\nTrying to rescue a girl in a low dive in New York city in 1890, as I\nentered the den the keeper, a large, strong man, sprang up and struck\nme a blow. The girl caught his arm and cried out, \"Don't strike her,\nshe is a lady.\" But he thrust me out, and I said to her, \"Fly for your\nlife--out at the back door.\" I ran around the saloon and caught her\naway from an angry mob and with the help of the sisters with me,\nalmost carried her six blocks to the Crittenden Home, and there she\nwas reformed and converted.\n\n\n                     A GIRL REJECTED AT RESCUE HOME.\n\nIn Ft. Worth, Texas, I once found in the jail a poor girl who was a\nvery desperate character. She had been at the Rescue Home several\ntimes, and she was so very wicked that they refused to have her there\nagain. They said it was of no use trying to reclaim her. I well\nremember the night that the Lord sent me to the jail to hold a\nmeeting. The service was held after dark, as the prisoners were\ncompelled to work during the day. I was intensely grieved and very\nmuch burdened over the case of this poor girl. So intelligent, yet so\nsinful! In my grief, I fell upon the floor weeping over her lost\ncondition.\n\nA sister who was with me, and on her way then to India, prayed for me\nas well as for the poor prisoners, and the lost girl. The meeting\nclosed, and the next day we left the city, the sister going west,\nwhile I started north.\n\nAfter we left Ft. Worth, my heart was still sad and greatly pained for\nthe poor lost girl I had seen in the jail and I wrote to the\nsuperintendent of the Rescue Home and pleaded with her to try her just\nonce more--not only for my sake, but for the sake of Jesus. She did\nso, and the result was that the girl was saved and began a life of\nvirtue and usefulness.\n\nA year or so later, I was again at Ft. Worth, and was holding\nservices in the Girls' Rescue Home. As they assembled for the meeting\nI shook hands with each of them. I said of one of the girls to the\nmatron, \"This girl looks like a good Christian--who is she?\" The girl\nherself replied, \"Don't you know me, mother?\" I said, \"No.\" Then she\nanswered, \"I am the girl you rescued from the prison;\" and the matron\nsaid that she was the best girl in the home. I went back after another\nyear, and she was the matron's assistant. Still later the\nsuperintendent told me that she was a deaconess in New York, and was\ndoing a great work. This same lady told me how she had shortly before\ncome across my letter in which I begged her mother-in-law, who was the\nformer superintendent, to help the girl and give her just one more\nchance! Oh, how wonderfully God had answered my prayers and the\nyearning of my heart that night when the burden of her soul rested so\nheavily upon me!\n\n\n                       ROBBED BY HER OWN BROTHER.\n\nA lovely girl was once drugged by her deceiver and left to bear her\nshame alone. She was led to a rescue home where she was cared for.\nSometime after the birth of her child, which she dearly loved, her\nfather died, and left her $1,000. She was induced by her brother to\ncome to the city where he was living, and give him the money, which he\nand his wife used recklessly. They then moved, leaving the poor girl\nsitting on the steps without money enough even to buy milk for her\nbabe. The poor girl was almost distracted with grief. I found her a\ntemporary home with Christian people and a little later secured\ntransportation for her to a rescue home in another city where she\ncould be kindly provided for.\n\nIn that hour of despair, when I found her, she was almost ready to\nyield to the enemy of her soul, through temptation of the same wretch\nwho had first effected her ruin. She could go hungry herself, she\nsaid, but she could not see her babe suffer for want of food.\n\nSisters, let us try by all possible means to befriend our own sex and\nhelp all who are thrown in our way, heavenward.\n\n\n                     NEGLECTED BY THE CHURCHES.\n\nI once went to a city where there are many churches and professors of\nreligion, and yet there in the Home for Fallen Girls, where I held\nservices I found the inmates neglected. I then went to the poorhouse\nwhere over a hundred poor and crippled destitute people were so glad\nto hear me sing hymns while they partook of their dinner. They seemed\nto wonder who and what I was, yet, how glad they were when they\nunderstood it was for the love of their souls Jesus had sent me to\ntell them of His great love. Thank God for the privilege of going to\nthese places. God always finds a way when there seems to be no way.\n\nSo I must say in concluding that of all those who have my sympathy and\nmy help, my prayers and my tears, prisoners, and all, the poor,\nabandoned, forsaken girl, who has no one to share her sorrow and her\nshame claims and receives my deepest sympathy and assistance. There is\nno one on whom Jesus had more compassion and yet the croakers are\noften the ones to send her to worse shame by their neglect and\ncruelty. Jesus said, \"Neither do I condemn thee, go and sin no more.\"\n\n    \"She is more to be pitied than censured,\n      She is more to be loved than despised,\n    She is only a poor girl who has ventured\n      On life's rugged path ill-advised.\n    Don't scorn her with words fierce and bitter,\n      Don't laugh at her shame and downfall;\n    Just pause for a moment, consider\n      That a man was the cause of it all.\"\n\n\n                         VISIT TO A HOSPITAL.\n\nOne Sunday, years ago, I visited a hospital in a certain city and\nfound it in a most terrible condition. There were many sick, both men\nand women, and how glad they were to see me! The public were not\npermitted inside the grounds, but the superintendent being absent I\nwas admitted. The patients were suffering with hunger, and were in a\nmost filthy condition.\n\nI found both colored men and women in the same room and all covered\nwith body lice. One old colored woman was almost eaten alive with\nvermin, and starving. They would not give her even a drink of water. I\ngave her water and she drank a quart and begged for more. I asked her\nif she would like to have me bring her something to eat. She said,\n\"Oh, yes, Honey.\" I said, \"What can you eat?\" She said, \"A crust of\nbread--I's so hungry, been hungry so long.\"\n\nMy heart was sick at the sights and sounds of suffering and anguish. I\ntold the Lord about it. All night I cried and prayed. I got up early,\ngot a large, fat chicken, made soup, got provisions and a couple to\nhelp me carry the things, and went to that miserable place. I got\naccess to the building with my food and all got a share. I never will\nforget the looks on the faces of those starving sufferers, and the\ntears coursing down their wan, pale cheeks, as I and dear Mary, my\nhelper, fed them. One poor old white brother said he was ashamed to\nhave us near him.\n\nI took along clothing for the poor old colored woman, and had to take\nthe scissors and cut the garment off from her, and put it in the\nstove. I found the mattress decaying under her.\n\nI told the superintendent's wife I would be a witness against her in\nthe day of judgment for treating the patients so cruelly. She said she\ndid not have help. I said the state, county or city would send help,\nthat that was no excuse for their starving and cruelly treating those\nsick helpless invalids. The old woman and the men told me they were\ncompelled to live there in that one room altogether. It was terrible!\n\nOne man said he had killed vermin until he was so tired and weak he\ncould do no more. They said that seldom ever any one left that death\nhole alive. The bodies were sold for dissection.\n\nI went early the next morning to the judge's office to relate my\nexperience and ask him if something could not be done to relieve the\nsuffering of the patients that I found there in such a filthy\ncondition and in such need of care and food and water. I told him I\ndid not see the superintendent, Mr. V. Just at that moment a dudish\nyoung fellow in the room arose and said, \"So you did not see V. when\nyou went there yesterday; you see him now, don't you?\" He was very\nangry and said I got inside by his absence, and that he would do so\nand so. The judge said angrily, \"Woman, you talk too much.\" I said, \"I\nhave not begun to talk yet.\" The two men hissed and told me to leave\nthe office. I had taken the precaution to take with me the sister who\nwas traveling with me at that time, also the young man who had helped\nus to carry the clothes and provisions to the hospital the day before.\nThey could have corroborated my testimony but the judge was evidently\nin league with the superintendent of the hospital and would not\nlisten.\n\nI went to a church in the place to a Woman's Missionary meeting and\ngot permission to speak to the ladies in public about the awful\nconditions I found in their so-called hospital. They were surprised\nand greatly incensed, and told their husbands, and so there was\nawakened an interest that resulted in further investigation. Facts\nwere found as I had stated, only, if anything, worse.\n\nThe outcome of these things being brought to light was that the old\nshanties which served as a so-called hospital were replaced by good\nbuildings and kind caretakers took the place of the cruel\nsuperintendent--who died some months later after a long illness.\n\n\n                     ANOTHER VISIT TO A HOSPITAL.\n\nThe following is a description of a visit to another hospital, as\npublished in a paper at Chattanooga, Tenn. This was also early in my\nwork.\n\n\n                              A BAT CAVE.\n\n A SANITARIUM FOR CATS AND HOTEL FOR DOGS--CALLED BY COURTESY THE CITY\n                        HOSPITAL OF CHATTANOOGA.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, the eloquent female evangelist, who has been\n     in the city for the past week carrying on a series of prayer\n     meetings in the jails and houses of ill fame, came into the\n     _Commercial_ office yesterday afternoon and gave a full and\n     detailed report of the neglected condition of the city hospital.\n     She says:\n\n     \"As I approached the building I could not convince myself that I\n     was really in sight of a hospital, for it reminded me more of a\n     stable than anything else I could conceive of. I approached the\n     gate and met a colored female mute who raised her hand in a\n     deprecating manner as if to warn me of some unseen danger that I\n     was about to come in contact with. I motioned the negro girl to\n     lead the way and followed her into a dreary looking house that I\n     had been told was really the only hospital of which Chattanooga\n     could boast. Just as I opened the door six big hounds sprang\n     from the different beds within the building and would have torn\n     me to pieces had not I hastily slammed the door and shut them in.\n     I applied to a poor cripple man who had the appearance of a\n     half-fed mendicant where to find the keeper and I was informed\n     that he was asleep, but if I would wait he (the cripple) would go\n     and wake him up, and in a few moments he returned accompanied by\n     a healthy looking man who seemed to care little whether I went in\n     or remained out of doors in the rain.\n\n     \"As I followed the keeper into the room six well fed hounds and\n     one emaciated looking man occupied the beds that were in the\n     rooms.\n\n     \"I have wandered from one end of the land to the other, I have\n     visited prison cells, opium joints, houses of ill-fame,\n     almshouses, reformatories and every dreary den from New York to\n     San Francisco, from Florida to Montreal, but with all the sights\n     with which I have been confronted I have never seen a more\n     cheerless abode and one so utterly void of comfort and\n     cleanliness as the one occupied by the poor, hungry invalid that\n     shared the beds of the well fed dogs.\n\n     \"The sick man said he was suffering for the want of food and had\n     been shamefully neglected since he was placed in charge of the\n     manager of this cheerless institution. Two inmates have died\n     within the past week and two are left to suffer.\n\n     \"The other inmate was a colored man who evidently has little more\n     of life's suffering to endure in this world.\n\n     \"In this room six cats occupied seats of prominence, two purring\n     on one bed and three others romping from place to place over the\n     apartment, while the sixth was helping himself to the sick man's\n     dinner.\n\n     \"The buildings are without warmth in the winter and have no means\n     of ventilation for summer. The confined air is contaminated with\n     the odor that rises from unemptied and neglected vessels that are\n     allowed to stand neglected from day to day. The keeper seems to\n     be utterly indifferent with regard to the ease or comfort of the\n     sick and it is very evident that while the city pays for food to\n     support the sick and suffering, the countless and useless dogs\n     and cats eat a large portion of the food which should be used\n     exclusively for the unfortunate inmates.\"\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton has done much commendable work not only in\n     Chattanooga but from one end of the land to the other. She has\n     consecrated her time, wealth and character to the uplifting of\n     fallen people, and by her devotion to Christianity and her\n     liberality has won thousands of friends throughout the\n     country.--Chattanooga Paper.\n\n\n               WORDS OF CHEER FROM OTHER RESCUE WORKERS.\n\nThe first of the following letters I carried with me on my second\nvisit to Europe, mentioned elsewhere:\n\n                       FLORENCE CRITTENTON HOME,\n                  21 and 23 Bleecker Street, New York.\n\n     J. F. Shirey, 67 Farrington Road, East Coast, England.\n\n     Dear Brother: This will introduce to you Mrs. Elizabeth Wheaton,\n     a prison evangelist. She is alone and unprotected in London.\n     Please make the way for her as best you can where she can speak\n     for God to the poor prisoners. She lives by faith and trusts Him\n     for all.\n\n     God bless you.\n\n                                                  MOTHER PRINDLE.\n\n[Illustration: MOTHER PRINDLE.]\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                      New York, October 16, 1903.\n\n     My first acquaintance with Mrs. Elizabeth Wheaton was made in the\n     Florence Crittenton Midnight Mission, New York City, in 1890. She\n     impressed me then and has ever since as one whom God has called\n     and endowed with special gifts for a grand and noble work. Her\n     one strong hold is faith in God. When under the power of the\n     Spirit she verily treads upon serpents and scorpions and all the\n     powers of darkness seem to flee before her. As a singing\n     evangelist for prison work, I do not know her equal. Her\n     preaching is in the demonstration of the Spirit and with power.\n     She gives the Lord's message with holy boldness, fraught with\n     tender love to the sinner, and blessed are the results.\n\n     The midnight call given on train, when it was my privilege to be\n     with her, was an hour never to be forgotten. Many will rise up\n     and call her blessed in that great day who but for her favored\n     and wonderful ministry would have gone into outer darkness. God\n     bless her and her book.\n\n                                                  MOTHER PRINDLE.\n\nThe following taken from \"Beulah Home Record,\" Chicago, Ill., March 1,\n1902, is explanatory in itself. Also the letter that follows:\n\n     We have had with us for a time, as our honored guest, Mother\n     Wheaton, the Railroad Prison Evangelist. Like Jesus, the friend\n     of poor sinners, she goes up and down the land in state prisons\n     and homes where mothers' girls are sheltered, down into the coal\n     mines, into the great lumber camps, and on crowded railroad\n     trains, while speeding along, she preaches the everlasting gospel\n     of our Lord and Savior, and gives out tracts. Thus she goes as\n     God's flaming minister, sowing beside all waters, singing and\n     praying poor sin-sick, tempest-tossed souls into the kingdom of\n     God. Do you ask what is the secret of her success? It may be\n     found in the Psalms, 126:6--\"She goeth forth weeping,\" she has a\n     burning love for souls. So you and I, dear reader, if we are to\n     succeed in winning souls, our hearts must be full of love for\n     them. We give Mother Wheaton a warm welcome to this great and\n     wicked city of Chicago and a hearty welcome always to Beulah\n     Home.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                               Berachah Home for Erring Girls,\n                                 2719 Lawton Ave., St. Louis, Mo.\n\n     We feel in Berachah Home that we shall not forget Mother Wheaton.\n     She came into the \"Home\" and our lives just as God was leading us\n     out in rescue work, and as she stood among us in our first \"open\n     meeting,\" we felt, \"Here is a strong, brave soldier of the\n     cross.\" We found hope and encouragement as she spoke to us of His\n     service, and the Spirit witnessed \"This is of God,\" as she sang\n     one of her songs as only Mother Wheaton can sing them. We did not\n     see her again until in the Baltimore Convocation of Prayer,\n     January, 1904, when God again used her to bring Mrs. Chapman and\n     me to God's full thought for us there. She with others laid hands\n     on us, with prayer, setting us apart for the \"work whereunto we\n     were called.\" May God bless her ministry to others, as He has to\n     us in Berachah Home.\n\n                                          MRS. J. P. DUNCAN, Mgr.\n                                       MRS. B. G. CHAPMAN, Treas.\n\n\n           THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER.\n\n    \"To the home of his father returning,\n      The prodigal, weary and worn,\n    Is greeted with joy and thanksgiving,\n      As when on his first natal morn;\n    A 'robe' and a 'ring' are his portion,\n      The servants as suppliants bow;\n    He is clad in fine linen and purple,\n      In return for the penitent vow.\n\n    \"But ah! for the Prodigal Daughter,\n      Who has wandered away from her home;\n    Her feet must still press the dark valley\n      And through the wilderness roam;\n    Alone on the bleak, barren mountains--\n      The mountains so dreary and cold--\n    No hand is outstretched in fond pity\n      To welcome her back to the fold.\n\n    \"But thanks to the Shepherd, whose mercy\n      Still follows His sheep, tho' they stray;\n    The weakest, and e'en the forsaken\n      He bears in His bosom away;\n    And in the bright mansions of glory\n      Which the blood of His sacrifice won,\n    There is room for the Prodigal Daughter,\n      As well as the Prodigal Son!\"\n\n    We've a Home for Prodigal Daughters,\n      Our Saviour says gather them in;\n    Will you help rescue these dear ones--\n      Who have fallen in paths of sin?\n    Your girl may be one of the \"fallen,\"\n      And you long to see her return;\n    Oh, there's room for the Prodigal Daughter,\n      As well as the Prodigal Son.\n\n                                          --Horace.\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER XIX.\n\n                      Work in Canada and Mexico.\n\n\nIn my several visits to the prisons of Canada I have generally found\nthe officers very courteous. There are sometimes there, as here,\nchanges of administration, making the work of reaching the prisoners\nmore difficult. In the large prison at Toronto the officers were\nespecially kind and gave me the privilege of preaching the gospel to\nthe prisoners as often as I could attend chapel services. Much\ninterest was manifested and I trust good was accomplished.\n\n\n               MY SECOND EXPERIENCE IN STREET PREACHING\n\nwas in Hamilton, Canada. There for weeks, night after night, rain or\nshine, I sang and preached the gospel in the open air. I was\nespecially helped of the Lord and met with blessed success.\n\nIn 1886, I took with me from Toronto, a dear young sister, who was\ncalled of God to join me in my work. She went with me to Florida and\nmany other states. She afterward married an evangelist but died a few\nyears later, being true to God, so far as I know, to the last.\n\n\n                      SERVICE WITH Y. M. C. A.\n\nDuring a visit to London, Canada, after visiting the prisons I went to\nthe hospital to visit the sick. While singing, a message came over the\ntelephone saying that the Secretary of the Y. M. C. A. requested me to\nlead their meeting on Sunday afternoon. Would I come? I said, \"Better\nwait till I return to the city. I can't tell.\" The secretary had to\nknow at once, so he could announce it through the papers. So I\npromised to go, as they had no speaker. I felt discouraged, as I\ncould think of no message suitable for that large, mixed audience, and\nprayed for guidance. Sunday afternoon--still with no message in\nmind--I started to the hall. As I walked along the street, praying, I\nsaid, \"Lord, give me at least a text to read.\" Just then I saw on the\nground a scrap of paper, the torn leaf of a Bible. I picked it up,\nlooked at it, and there my message, text and all, opened up to my\nmental vision. I went into the pulpit depending entirely on God, and\nthe light broke in on my soul, and the power of God fell on the\npeople. I told them how I was depending alone on the Lord for the\nwords as He gave them to me. It was a victorious meeting. I leave\nresults with the Lord.\n\n\n                             A GIRL RESCUED.\n\nIn one of the Canadian cities I found in the jail a beautiful girl who\nwas very dissipated and unruly. The officers could not control her--no\none had any good influence over her. The Lord laid the burden of her\nsoul on my heart. I treated her with love and respect, and tried in\nevery way to win her for God. Finally, she realized that I loved her\nsoul, though no one else cared for her. Then she sought the Lord. She\nwas a Roman Catholic. I told her I would go to the House of the Good\nShepherd and speak to the Mother Superior, and see if they would not\ntake her in, as she had no home. She wept with joy at this, and told\nme of a plan some wicked men had made to be at the jail when she was\ndischarged at 6 o'clock Saturday evening and take her to haunts of\nsin. I hurried out to the Sisters early in the morning and found them\nat mass, and waited, determined to save the poor girl from further\ndownfall, and drunkenness. The Sisters, seeing my anxiety and\nsincerity, agreed to help me. Then I went to the officers of the jail\nand got them to release the girl at noon. She was taken to another\ncity and thus saved. When the hour came for her release from the jail\nin the evening, sure enough several men made their appearance and\nwatched and waited for her to come out. At last they began calling her\nname. Then the officers went out and told them the girl had been\npardoned, and had left at noon for another city, with protectors.\nAnother brand had been plucked from the burning for the Master's\nKingdom.\n\n\n                       SHUT OUT--OTHERS ADMITTED.\n\nAt one time amidst great inconveniences I reached Kingston Prison. I\nsaw some of the officers Saturday night and they were kind and\nwillingly consented that I should have opportunity to hold or assist\nin services the next day. The next morning I went to the prison\nthrough a drenching rain--without an umbrella, arrived early and\nwaited for the chaplain. When he came, I told him my desire and what\nthe other officers had said. But he refused to even let me go inside\nto listen to the service. When I asked his reason he said they would\nnot allow women in the prison. Yet while I had been waiting I had seen\nseveral Catholic sisters enter. I have had similar experiences in our\nown land.\n\n\n                                STONED.\n\nOne day as I was passing along the street in the quaint walled city of\nQuebec, some boys threw stones at me, while an old man urged them on,\nsaying, \"If it's Salvation Army ye are, ye should be killed.\" The Lord\nhave mercy upon them and upon all who oppose His work or His workers.\nFor ourselves we must not count these things strange. \"It is enough\nfor the disciple that he be as his Master, and the servant as his\nLord.\"\n\n\n                          AN INFIDEL DEFEATED.\n\nWhile in Toronto, Canada, I often went to the parks on Sabbath days\nand held services--the mayor of the city, who was a devoted Christian,\noften himself helping in these open-air services. One stand in the\npark was usually occupied by the infidel element. They would hold the\nplace all day so that others could not have the privilege of doing\nwork for God--so as the place was public property upon which they had\nno rightful claim I went early and so secured the place before them.\nWhen their leader arrived the people were listening to the gospel in\nsong and testimony from worthy witnesses. He was very angry--said it\nwas his place to speak and he must have it, and ordered me to stop and\nleave the stand, but I kept on with the service as God directed and he\nwent away a few steps and called for the people to follow him, and he\nwould address them. No one seemed inclined to go and a bystander told\nhim his followers were few and he had better desist from trying to\ndisturb a religious service. So we had the victory and God was honored\nthat day in the work which He sent his servants to do.\n\nAmong my papers I have found the following letters of introduction\ngiven me while in Canada by Hon. John Robson, Provincial Secretary:\n\n                               Provincial Secretary's Department,\n                                         Victoria, B. C., Oct. 5.\n\n     Dear Brother:\n\n     The bearers of this are prison evangelists of a very high and\n     deserving character, whom I asked to call upon you. If you could\n     get up a meeting at Y. M. C. A. rooms for them, it might do good.\n\n                                    In haste yours,\n                                                     JOHN ROBSON.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                               Provincial Secretary's Department,\n                                   Victoria, B. C., Oct. 5, 1888.\n\n     Dear Mr. McBride:\n\n     The ladies whom this will introduce to you are prison evangelists\n     who are desirous of doing some work in the penitentiary, and I\n     take the liberty of bespeaking for them a kind reception at your\n     hands. They enjoy a high reputation and are well deserving of\n     your kind attention.\n\n                                       Very sincerely yours,\n                                                     JOHN ROBSON.\n\n     A. H. McBride, Esq., Warden Penitentiary.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                                  Victoria, B. C.\n\n     Mr. Robson bespeaks for Mrs. Wheaton and lady companion courteous\n     attention at the hands of the warden of the Victoria gaol.\n\n\n                             WORK IN MEXICO.\n\nNot many years after engaging in special prison work I went into\nMexico and have since gone there quite frequently. As a rule the\npeople are ignorant and superstitious and consequently hard to reach\nwith the gospel. But though I was compelled to speak through an\ninterpreter it is surprising how soon they know if one is sincere and\nearnest. In the prisons they are very poorly cared for, often having\nto wait years for trial and sometimes dying of neglect. I am told that\nnatives of our own land if thrown into prison there fare worse than\nothers.\n\n\n                             A BULL FIGHT.\n\nOnce while in Mexico I found there was to be a bull fight not far from\nthe prison where I was to hold service. My heart was sad because of\nthe intense anxiety of the Mexicans to see the exhibition. They came\nlong distances and there were many very old people who seemed\nimpatient for the hour to arrive when Mexicans, bulls and horses\nshould be thrown helplessly together--that they might view the combat.\nThis cruel sport--so long a favorite pastime both in Spain and\nMexico--was at one time abolished but was afterward re-established out\nof policy--in order to please the Mexicans. For me to describe this\nkind of fiendish pastime would not glorify God, nor help the public,\nbut would have a tendency to brutality, being neither elevating nor\nrefining. But should we not, dear reader, try to do all in our power\nto lead people to a higher plane of morals and send missionaries to\nhelp people to know Jesus who satisfies every longing of the human\nsoul, and gives peace and rest here, and a home in Heaven through\neternity?\n\n\n                        SIX UNDER DEATH SENTENCE.\n\nAt another time I visited a prison in Mexico where there were six men\nunder death sentence. They could not understand me, but I knelt by\nthose great, strong men and wept and prayed to God who could carry the\nmessage of love through my tears to their hard hearts and they were so\naffected that we all wept together. I am sure they were remembered\nthat day by the God who sent me to show them _His_ love for the lost\nand who gave me a love for the poor criminals that nothing can\ndestroy.\n\n\n                             DIFFICULTIES.\n\nDuring my last trip into Mexico, 1902, I found the prisoners in one\nplace in a most deplorable condition. They were almost starving and\nneglected in every way. I had considerable trouble in getting into the\nprison on that day, as I could find no one to interpret for me. So we\nwent from one office to another trying to find some one to admit us to\nthe prison. As I entered one public office a fierce dog came rushing\nat me from an adjoining room. I fled out of the door in dismay with\nthe dog and an old Mexican woman at my heels. I tried to make her\nunderstand what we wanted and then hurried away. Finally we found a\nfellow decorated beyond description with tinsel and other adornings\nwho furnished me an interpreter and admitted us to the prison. It was\nvery difficult to make the poor prisoners understand how deeply I felt\nfor them, but I could put my arms around the poor women who were there\nand I could take their little babes in my arms and thus show my\nsympathy, then telling the story of Jesus who said, \"Father, forgive\nthem, for they know not what they do.\"\n\n\n                       MINISTERED TO A SUFFERER.\n\nI found one poor wounded man who had just been brought into the prison\nsitting on the ground with bloody clothing and matted hair. He was\nweeping and tried so hard to explain something to me. The interpreter\nwas evidently slow to tell me what the poor sufferer wanted. I was\nheart-sick to know what to do, as we had only a short time to stay and\nI could not bear to leave him without in some way ministering to him.\nBut I thought of the fruit remaining in my handbag. I thrust an orange\ninto his bony hands. He grabbed it and with both hands thrust it to\nhis mouth eating peel and all. Poor man--he was evidently starving.\nReader I wish I could make clear to you the pitiful sight! The sequel\nshowed me why that was providentially left in my handbag. How thankful\nI was to minister to that poor fellow's need in even a small degree.\nHow I longed to help them all.\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER XX.\n\n                            Across the Sea.\n\n\nI had greatly desired to preach the gospel in other lands and held\nmyself ever ready to go at a moment's warning, anywhere the Lord\nshould lead, and had been given letters of introduction to prominent\npeople in Great Britain. In the year 1890 my mind was much exercised\nabout the regions beyond--and without time for preparation, with but\nan hour's notice, the call came to go forward. I was in Philadelphia\nwalking along the street praying--\"O Lord, where next--what wilt Thou\nhave me to do?\" Looking up I saw the large posters of steamship lines\nand the thought came to me, \"Go and inquire the price of a ticket to\nEurope.\" I obeyed the impulse and went in and talked with the\nsteamship agent of rates and the time of departure of the first\nsteamer. Then I left the office praying, O God, show me Thy will--make\nThy way very plain to me. Then I went back to the office, feeling that\nI must get alone with the Lord. I asked the agent if I might go into a\nrear office which was unoccupied, to pray. He very courteously\nreplied, \"Certainly, madam.\" There I knelt before the Lord and\ninquired if He wanted me to go at once--that very night--on the first\nsteamer, to Scotland. The answer came clearly: \"Go, my child, nothing\ndoubting.\" I arose, went into the front office and explained to the\nagent the nature of my mission work; and how for years I had obeyed\nthe leadings of the Holy Spirit and that I had a sister traveling with\nme who was waiting at the depot for my return, to know where we would\ngo next. Told him I would buy two steerage tickets for Glasgow,\nScotland, if he would refund the money for the one in case the sister\nwas unwilling to go with me. To this he consented, so I purchased the\ntickets and hurried to the railway station where I had left my friend.\nI knew we had only a few moments to catch the train for New York in\norder to reach the steamer Devonia for Glasgow. Hurriedly I said to\nher, \"Do you want to go to Europe?\" \"Oh, yes,\" she replied. \"When?\" I\nasked. \"Oh, some time,\" was the answer. Then I said, \"I have two\ntickets. It is now or never. If you wish to go I will take you, if\nnot, I will go alone and you can return the ticket and get the money\nfor yourself.\" She said, \"I will go.\" So we rushed to the gate, caught\nthe train on the move, and reached New York in time to get aboard the\nDevonia.\n\n\n                            ON THE OCEAN.\n\nLeaving America's shores far behind us, we found ourselves doomed to a\nstormy voyage, but with plenty of missionary work to do. There was, in\nthe steerage, much profanity, continual drunkenness of both men and\nwomen, and card playing at all times only when the passengers were\nsleeping or too sea-sick. While in mid-ocean we encountered a severe\nstorm which greatly delayed us. There were only six Christians on\nboard the steamer. I believe it was in answer to prayer that the ship\nwas saved from wreck. After thirteen days on the ocean, we saw the\nshores of \"Bonnie Scotland,\" and as we neared port there was great\nrejoicing among the passengers--almost all of whom were going home.\nBut how different it was with me! I felt much as Paul did when he said\nto the elders of the church at Ephesus, \"And now, behold, I go bound\nin the spirit unto Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall befall\nme there: save that the Holy Ghost witnesseth in every city, saying\nthat bonds and afflictions abide me.\" Like him I felt that suffering\nand persecution and perhaps imprisonment and death was before me in\nthat strange land, but Paul was enabled to say, \"But none of these\nthings move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I\nmight finish my course with joy, and the ministry which I have\nreceived of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of\nGod;\" and with something of the same spirit I was enabled to say, as I\nwept before Him, \"Lord, I will be true--only give me Thy grace\nsufficient for me.\"\n\n\n                          IN A FOREIGN LAND.\n\nI was a stranger in a strange land with only a few shillings and\nwithout any great degree of strength of body and, strange to say, for\none reason and another I never saw one of those to whom I carried\nletters of introduction. How the Lord was teaching me not to lean on\nthe arm of flesh! In answer to a letter of inquiry written to one to\nwhom one letter was addressed, I received the following very kind\nreply from her husband:\n\n                                                   11 Walker St.,\n                                        Edinburgh, Oct. 18, 1890.\n\n     Dear Friend:\n\n     Your letter of the 16th, with one from Miss Sisson, has just\n     reached me, forwarded from Crieff. Since Miss Sisson's letter was\n     written my dear wife has fallen asleep in Jesus and having left\n     Crieff I am in lodgings for the present in Edinburgh with my\n     sister and five children.\n\n     I have been praying over the subject of your letter, but I do not\n     have any light on the matter nor am I likely, so far as I can\n     see, to be in Glasgow for some time. Yet if the Lord sent you to\n     Scotland He will certainly show you what He has for you to do.\n     \"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart and lean not to thine own\n     understanding: in all thy ways acknowledge Him and He shall\n     direct thy paths.\"\n\n     I enclose a one-pound note towards expenses.\n\n                           Yours in Christ,\n                                                    G. W. OLDHAM.\n\nAt the landing in Glasgow, I inquired of the policeman on duty and\nsecured a room with his family. Then I went in search of a meeting.\nFound the car-fare a penny a mile and other customs quite different\nfrom ours. The first meeting I found corresponded to our Y. M. C. A.\nmeetings. But our special mission was to the lost.\n\nThat evening I received permission from the policeman to hold open-air\nmeetings. Going along the street a woman who was drunk spied me and\nrushed after me beating me on the back. As I made no resistance other\ndrunken women joined their companion in sin and I would have had a\nhard time of it had not the police protected me. These drunken women\nthought that I belonged to the Salvation Army, as the bonnet I then\nwore was quite similar to the one dear Mother Booth had worn and I was\noften told that I looked like her. I was in Scotland when she passed\nto her reward in the land where there are no slums, no sinners to\nrescue, to weep over and save. Had I been near enough how gladly would\nI have joined the great throng that gathered to show honor to her\nmemory! Nearly every night while in Glasgow found us on the streets\npreaching, singing, and praying, with those who never went to\nchurch--many of them not even to the Salvation Army or missions. In\nmany respects we found worse conditions than in our home-land. The\npublic houses were always filled at night with men and often their\nwhole families--drinking all kinds of intoxicants--women with infants\nin their arms as well as others drinking with men at the bar. And the\nmost beautiful girls to be found were secured by the keepers of these\nhouses to stand behind the bar and sell the drinks.\n\nThe prisons, my special burden, I found very difficult of access for\nmissionary work. I found that women were not expected, there, to do\nthat kind of work. Yet I fasted and prayed and wept before the Lord,\npleading that the prison doors might be opened to me and at last I was\nsuccessful in gaining admission to some of them. After some delay I\nwas admitted to Duke Street jail, in Glasgow, and there held several\nservices. It is a large prison, filled with the baser sort and those\nwhom the public houses had been licensed to make drunkards--to cause\nto reel and stagger and abuse and kill when unconscious of what they\nwere doing. The Lord's presence was revealed in our services there and\nsouls got help from God, and I hope to meet many of them in heaven. We\nvisited the poor in their homes, different penal institutions--all of\nthe missions and Salvation Army Corps and many of the churches. While\ntime lasts we will find much to do to help those around us.\n\n\n                         MY LIFE IN DANGER.\n\nOftentimes my life was in danger when visiting the saloons, which are\nthere called public houses--the keepers being called publicans. Often\nthe keepers of brothels and other places of sin drew revolvers on\nme--threatening me with death if I did not leave, as they did not want\nto lose their customers and their money--which they were sure to do if\nsouls were converted there, but the Lord always delivered me when\ndeath stared me in the face. One day I went into a public house where\na woman kept a dive. She at once got very angry, demanded my business,\nand ordered me to leave her place. She clutched me with a fiendish\ngrip, and pushed me out of the door, but purposely fastened one of my\narms in the door as she slammed it shut. I prayed God to release me\nand with the help of the sister who was with me we got the door open\nenough to release my arm. I am sorry to have reason to say that, as a\nrule, I find the women who are in charge of brothels and saloons\nharder to deal with than the men. A woman of judgment and tact when\nfully saved can, in many cases, do more good than men from the fact\nthat she can go where very few men could go without being looked upon\nwith suspicion. What need, then, that we should be emptied of self and\nfilled with the Holy Spirit, all given up to the Lord in order that we\ncan work successfully for God and souls.\n\nOne Saturday night, while in Glasgow, I preached in a church. Great\ncrowds had turned out in the city spending their week's wages. There\nwas much drinking of both men and women. At the church was given a\n\"Penny Tea,\" consisting of a cup of tea and a biscuit, thus drawing\nthe crowds--and afterwards having some one preach to them.\n\n\n                         A SONG STOPS A ROW.\n\nWhen the services had closed, we were returning to our lodging and\nwere attracted by a great crowd of people engaged in a row and a\nfight. I soon saw there was danger of bloodshed and stepping out in\nthe street I began to sing an old time hymn. This drew the attention\nof many and they came running to hear. Then I talked to them of Jesus\nand His love, and we went on our way and held another service on\nanother street. Then, coming to the quarters of a company of firemen,\nI asked if I might hold a service with them some time. One of them\nreplied, \"Yes, why not now?\" It was then 10 o'clock and raining. I\nstepped into the street and began singing. Across the way there was a\ndance hall with dancing going on upon the three floors of the hall. As\nI sang, the windows of the hall were lowered with a crash, perhaps to\nkeep out the rain--perhaps to keep out the sound of my voice.\n\nAs we proceeded with the service a policeman soon appeared and ordered\nme to stop. I told him I was not violating any ordinance of the city\nand only holding the service at the request of these firemen. He was\nangry and threatened to arrest us. He soon returned with two other\nofficers, and while the sister who was with me was speaking, he took\nher by the arm and led her down the muddy street. I began singing, \"He\nis able to deliver thee.\" The other two policemen took me by the arms\nand forced me through the deep mud in the street quite a long distance\nto the jail. Before being placed in the cell I was asked the cause of\nour arrest. I replied, \"For holding open-air service on the street,\nand there is no law in Scotland to forbid us from doing so.\" We were\nplaced in a room under guard to await the decision. We could hear the\nshrieks of men and women delirious from drink.\n\nI was asked who we were, and replied, \"We have come from America to\npreach the gospel.\" After cross-questioning and severely reprimanding\nme they asked if I would hold my peace if they would let me go. I\nanswered, \"I do not wish to disregard your request, but I must obey\nGod, for that is why I am here. And according to your law it is no\ncrime to hold open-air services; and it is a custom with the\nchurches.\" \"Then we will put you into the cell.\" Another said, \"No, we\ncannot do that for this offense.\" Then he said I should be gone. I\nsaid, \"Will you not send an officer to show us the way to our lodging,\nas you have arrested us without a cause and it is late at night?\" But\nthey refused to send a guide. I asked if they would give me the name\nof the policeman who arrested us, and told them the matter was not yet\nended; that they did not know with whom they were dealing. At first\nthey refused to give me the names asked for; but I said I should stay\ntill they did so, and I prevailed. When we had started to try to find\nour way to our lodging place, we met a lady who kindly directed us to\nthe street and number.\n\nOn Monday a sister who had been preaching among the policemen for some\nyears, called to see me--having heard of my arrest and treatment. She\nwas much surprised and said she could have those policemen all\ndischarged for their conduct toward me. I said, \"No, do not do that; I\nonly want to see them and talk to them about their souls' salvation.\"\n\"Then,\" she replied, \"I will have them come and ask your forgiveness.\"\nAs she started away, I handed her some recommendations and railroad\npasses I had had in America and letters of introduction to parties in\nthat land. Glancing over them she exclaimed, \"Is it possible? A lady\nwith such a recommend! These letters are addressed to some of the best\npeople in Great Britain. Will you trust me with these till I return?\"\n\"Certainly,\" I replied. She returned in due time, saying the policemen\nwould come and make an apology. I was very glad, for I felt then that\nI could tell them it was the love of Christ for the lost ones of earth\nthat constrained me to speak on the streets. Many ladies called during\nthe day to give me their sympathy and show their interest. The\npoliceman who caused the arrest came and asked me to forgive him. He\nbowed with us in prayer, and sobs shook his heavy frame while his\ntears fell like rain. He said, \"It is like mother used to talk, and it\nis the same kind of religion she had in olden times.\" I believe that\nman found Christ his Savior that day. He told us of his wife sick at\nhome and two \"wee bairns,\" and as he could get no girl at home, he had\noverworked; and on that Saturday night had taken too much liquor in\norder to keep him awake.\n\nHe invited me to call upon his family. This I did the following day,\nand found it as he had said. The two other men that had a part in\narresting us came the following day. One of them seemed very penitent\nwhen I talked to them, and both humbly begged my pardon for their\nconduct toward me.\n\nWhile in Glasgow I was invited by General Evans, of the Gospel Army,\nto conduct special services for ten nights at their hall--commonly\nknown as the Globe Theater. We copy the following from an editorial of\nthe General's published in his paper while we were there:\n\n     \"Hearing of these evangelists we decided to invite them to Globe\n     Theater, and truly we can say God has visited his people. They do\n     not believe in forms and ceremonies like us formal Scotch\n     Christians, but speak as they are moved by the Holy Ghost. They\n     live by faith and do not ask for money or collections; however,\n     they seem to get on very well, and I never yet heard them\n     grumbling about having too little. They take whatever is given\n     them as from the Lord, and give Him their sincere thanks\n     accordingly. They have spent over a week speaking and singing\n     every night in our meetings, and not a few have been impressed by\n     the earnest words of our sisters. Some of the professors have had\n     their short-comings pretty well threshed out, the writer coming\n     in for his share. Our meetings have been well attended and I\n     believe a really good work has been begun in our midst. The elder\n     lady carries about with her a book full of newspaper clippings\n     and numerous testimonials about her work in America. Her special\n     field is in the prisons and among the unfortunates. She takes no\n     stock in sensational worship, but there is always a great\n     sensation wherever she puts in an appearance.... In closing I may\n     say that our heaven-bound sisters have had some severe trials\n     since leaving their native shores. Eternity alone will reveal the\n     amount they have endured for the Master's sake. Before they had\n     been many hours in Glasgow they were marched off to jail for\n     preaching at a street corner, and gathering a crowd. I trust\n     this epistle will open up our cold, hard hearts and that we may\n     receive our sisters as is our duty as a Christian community.\"\n\n\n                           TUMULT IN A DIVE.\n\n\"Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer: behold the devil\nshall cast some of you into prison that ye may be tried; * * * Be thou\nfaithful unto death and I will give thee a crown of life.\"--Rev. 2:10.\n\nOne Sunday night, as I was on my way going from the meeting, being in\ncompany with General Evans and his wife and the sister who traveled\nwith me, I saw a public house open and went in and began to speak to\nthe men and women. I had only talked a few minutes when the proprietor\ncame in and asked, \"Are you a customer here?\" I replied, \"No, I am\nonly speaking to these people about their souls.\" He said, \"Now you\nleave, or I'll make you.\" He ran into a back room, and coming out he\npassed me quickly, running to the door and blowing a long blast on a\npolice whistle. This aroused the people and brought to the scene\nseveral policemen and hundreds of people of all classes in general\nfright. A man rushed in and catching me by the arm cried, \"Come out of\nthis place, quick, or you'll be killed. You are in danger. You don't\nknow where you are! This is the Gallow Gate; the worst place in\nGlasgow.\" I said to him, \"Let me alone, I am obeying God.\" But as the\npolicemen closed in around me there was a cry raised, \"It is Jack the\nRipper in disguise.\" The excitement in those days was intense all over\nEurope. Jack the Ripper was a fiend in human form that was killing\nwomen continually in the most horrifying manner and in cold blood. You\nmight see on a bulletin board in the city that a murder would be\ncommitted on such a day and hour and these threats would be carried\nout. Yet he defied the detectives and police. Large rewards were\noffered for his capture. I saw that my life was in danger unless I\ncould convince them of their mistake, of which I now saw the cause. I\nwas dressed differently from them. I had on a long black cloak and had\nthrown my black shawl over my head concealing my bonnet, and carried a\nbag on my arm which contained my recommendations, railway passes, etc.\nI said: \"You are mistaken, gentlemen, I am not Jack the Ripper\"\n(removing my shawl), \"I am a missionary from America; and preaching at\nthe Globe Theater every night. Come and hear me there. There is no\ncause for this tumult.\" The General and his wife having come in, we\npassed out, the mob following us several blocks with shouts and\nscreams giving me some blows as we went. But God delivered us from\ntheir cruel hands.\n\n\n                         A MOB OF DRUNKEN WOMEN.\n\nAnother night when returning from the Globe Theater in company with\nGeneral and Mrs. Evans we heard a great noise up the street and soon\ndiscovered that it was made by a mob of some kind. On their coming\nnearer, we found it was an immense crowd of drunken fallen girls. The\nGeneral said: \"Hide yourselves quick! There is no telling what they\nmight do.\" The policemen had slunk away--not caring to try to make any\narrests, as there were so many of them and they were so violent. Poor\nsouls! They were some mothers' girls who perhaps had learned to love\nthe taste of strong drink before they saw the light and were bound by\nboth inherited and acquired appetite. I was told that on an average\nthere were four drunken women in Glasgow for every drunken man. Such a\nstatement seems beyond belief, but during our stay we saw much to\nindicate that it was true. What could the harvest be?\n\nWhile in Scotland I received a very precious letter of encouragement\nand sympathy from Col. Geo. R. Clarke and wife of Pacific Garden\nMission, Chicago. I give it here and the reader can easily realize how\ncomforting it proved to me.\n\n                                       Chicago, October 29, 1890.\n\n     My Dear Sister Wheaton:\n\n     We received yours written from Glasgow last night. I am sorry\n     they treat you so badly there. But that is the way nice appearing\n     people treated our blessed Lord when on earth, and the way they\n     would treat Him now should He come to earth in the flesh. But it\n     is blessed to us, said Jesus, when men persecute us. We have a\n     right then to rejoice as He told us.\n\n     The Lord will stand by you as He did by Paul. He \"will never\n     leave you nor forsake you.\" So you can boldly say: \"The Lord is\n     my helper and I will not fear what man shall do unto me.\"\n\n     The Lord's work is prospering at our Mission and we are much\n     encouraged in it. We have large meetings and many precious souls\n     for Christ every night.\n\n     We have started a noonday prayer-meeting for both sexes. The Lord\n     is greatly blessing the meetings. We have souls converted there\n     right along at every meeting.\n\n     We will pray for you and may the dear Lord greatly bless you in\n     your work and labor of love which you do in His name.\n\n     We have only a little time left now to wait for Him. The signs\n     are thickening and He will soon rush into view and then we shall\n     hear Him say, \"Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou\n     in to the joy of thy Lord.\" Praise His dear name. Glory to God!\n     Hallelujah!!! What a meeting that will be! It will be our time to\n     laugh then, but our persecutors will weep and wail. May God be\n     merciful to them now and give them repentance before that awful\n     day.\n\n     Don't be in a hurry to die and go to heaven. You are more needed\n     by the Lord down here just now than in heaven. There are no\n     sinners there to whom to preach His gospel and He tells us to \"Go\n     and preach\" not \"go to heaven.\" He will take us all home in His\n     own good time. Let us patiently wait for Him and \"occupy until\n     He comes.\" With much Christian love we are yours in Christ.\n\n                                    COL. AND MRS. GEO. R. CLARKE.\n\n\n                             IN PAISLEY.\n\nI was summoned by telegram to go on to Paisley, Scotland, to hold\nservices for the Gospel Army in that place. We went immediately. Found\nthe city well informed of our coming by large striking posters which\nread: \"Hear the American Prison Evangelists--Be sure to hear these\nladies who have preached on the ruins of the Johnstown horror! Who\nhave visited all the prisons of note in America--led murderers to the\nscaffold,\" etc. I was not accustomed to such sensational advertising\nand tore down the posters I came across and chided with the General\nfor advertising us in such a way. He kindly explained that it was\ncustomary in their work in order to arrest the attention of the people\nand arouse interest in our meetings. Perhaps he was right but it was\nsomething of a trial to me to be brought before the people in that\nway.\n\nWe found much to do in Paisley, not only in the night services but on\nthe streets, in the homes of refuge and in homes. Found twelve hundred\ngirls employed in the Coats Thread Works and eight hundred girls in\nClark's Thread Works. Found great poverty among the laboring classes,\nas there was much dissipation among both men and women.\n\nJust before leaving Paisley I was called to go and hold services in\nthe Refuge for Fallen Women. During the services there did not seem to\nbe much feeling concerning their soul's salvation. It seemed I could\nnot reach them. At last, near the close of the meeting, I said:\n\"Girls, I am going away to my own land. I will never see you on earth\nagain. Will you not try and live so you will meet me in heaven? If\nso, raise your hands.\" Not one hand was raised. Then I said, \"Girls,\nwon't you pray?\" No sign yet. \"Girls, shall I pray for you when far\naway? If so, raise your hands?\" Not a hand went up. I was almost\ndiscouraged. Could I leave that great crowd of lost women to go on in\ntheir awful career without at least one manifesting a desire for a\nbetter life? How could I meet them at the Judgment? At last I said:\n\"Girls, I leave to-morrow for America. I am all alone. Only this young\nwoman with me. How many of you will pray for _us_ as we cross the\nocean again to go to our own land? If any one will pray for us, won't\nyou raise your hand?\" _Every hand went up_, and God's Holy Spirit\ncrept unawares into their hearts--so long unused to prayer, and the\nspell of evil was broken, and God reached them. O the melting, tender\nspirit which filled the room! And that company, I believe, gave God\ntheir hearts. In learning to pray for us, their sisters, they found\nGod, and I trust to meet many, if not all, of those dear souls in\nheaven. Jesus said, \"Neither do I condemn thee; go and sin no more.\"\nAnd then the confessions, the tears, the promises! Bless God, His word\nwill not return void.\n\nShortly after my arrival in America I received the following letter,\nwhich explains itself, from the matron of this Home:\n\n                Female Refuge, Paisley, Scotland, March 23, 1891.\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Friend: Glad I was to know that you had in God's good\n     Providence arrived safe at home among your dear ones, and rejoice\n     also with you that the work is prospering in your hand.\n\n     I have been called upon to part here with dear ones since I saw\n     you, but they are gone before me only a little while. My\n     assistants are all with me yet, and with myself had much pleasure\n     in your card. We often talk of you and your young friend that\n     accompanied you. I do hope she is still with you. We have now a\n     household of thirty inmates, many giving proof of a new life\n     being theirs for time and eternity. With our united kind regards,\n     I am\n\n                        Yours truly in the Lord's work,\n                                                   ANNIE J. BLUE.\n\nI have already mentioned the fact that I found it difficult to gain\nadmittance to the prisons of Scotland. I waited in Edinburgh for days,\non expense, seeking opportunity to hold at least one service in the\nlarge prison there. While waiting I held services in the jail and\nmissions and open air. Our meetings in the open air were largely\nattended, not only by the working classes, but also by others who\nwould stop and listen, being attracted, at first, by the singing which\nusually drew large crowds. We were much blessed in these services and\nespecially in the slums where large numbers of neglected children\ngathered around us, ragged and dirty, but with hearts glad to learn to\nsing with us.\n\n\n                          RETURN TO AMERICA.\n\nVarious circumstances combined that seemed to require my return to\nAmerica and after nearly two months of constant toil in Glasgow,\nEdinburgh, and Paisley, we hurried to Liverpool and November 15 took\nshipping for New York on the steamship Wisconsin. On this return\nvoyage we encountered another fearful storm in which many ships went\ndown.\n\nThe storm raged about four days. Men and women were in great fear;\nsome weeping, some screaming, some praying, and some cursing. Among\nall that multitude there were only four Christians; only four souls\nready to face eternity!\n\nBut our God is a very present help in time of trouble. There in that\nterrible hour, I was conscious of His presence and I knew that He was\nable to deliver us. When the storm had abated, with a heart full of\ngratitude and thanksgiving, I tried to sing, but could only utter\nsoftly the words of one old-time hymn:\n\n        \"How firm a foundation ye saints of the Lord.\"\n\nSo wonderfully did God deliver us that in spite of that fearful storm\nwe reached New York harbor after being only twelve days at sea.\n\nOn board these steamers a religious service is held every Lord's day,\nbut it is usually led by the captain who is often an ungodly man. Many\nseemed to ease their guilty consciences by observing this form of\nreligion. But my heart was often left more hungry and sad by a service\nwhich seemed to me mere form if not a farce and mockery.\n\nDuring this return trip I supposed I was about out of money, and was\nsomewhat tempted to doubt the promises, and I prayed much for\nguidance. When almost ready to land I took from my purse my small\nstock to have the steward get it changed for U. S. money, and to my\nglad surprise I found in another part of the purse a pound note. I\ncould not tell how it came to be there. So I felt reproved for my lack\nof faith.\n\nAmong my old papers I find a touching letter written by a dear young\nsister to whom I became much attached while in Scotland. Had it not\nbeen that her family were largely dependent upon her she would have\ngone with me in my work. I give the following extract:\n\n                                          Glasgow, Nov. 17, 1890.\n\n     My Dear Sister in Jesus:\n\n     I received your card Saturday night; and was very much surprised\n     to learn that you had gone so suddenly. But not our will but\n     God's will be done. Dear sister, I hope you and Nellie will have\n     a safe passage across the ocean and may the dear Savior be very\n     present to both of you. You have His blessed promise, \"Fear them\n     not; for I am with thee.\"\n\n     Mrs. P---- and the husband were asking very kindly after you. Mr.\n     L---- could scarcely credit that you had gone home so suddenly.\n     Several others also in the hall wish you a special blessing in\n     your effort to win souls for the Master, who will reward you in\n     His own time.\n\n     Dear sister, you do not know and you will never know until you\n     are within the Pearly Gates, how many precious souls have been\n     brought to the knowledge of the truth through you.\n\n     May the dear Lord make us truly Holy Ghost workers and may we\n     have a desire to point sinners to Jesus--the all-sufficient\n     one--the author and finisher of our salvation. Glory to God! May\n     we be more and more like Jesus, humble, meek and mild, loving one\n     another as the Lord has also loved us. May we be clean, empty\n     vessels for the Master's use. Dear Jesus, do strip us of\n     everything that would hinder the blessing and would keep our joy\n     from being full. Write soon; and if we do not meet again on\n     earth, with God's help we will meet in heaven, Praise God!\n\n     Your loving sister in Jesus,\n                                                    RACHEL SMITH.\n\n\n                        SECOND VISIT TO EUROPE.\n\nIn the year 1896 the Lord made plain to me that it was His will that I\nshould again go to Europe. While in Washington, D. C., I was led to\nreturn to Iowa, and there found that a band of missionaries who were\nready to start for Africa had been praying that I might come and go\nwith them as far as New York. When they saw me alight at their door,\nthey shouted and praised the Lord. When I asked them the reason they\nsaid because God had answered prayer--that they had prayed God to send\nme to see them off for Africa.\n\nWhile we were holding a few meetings in Philadelphia I felt directed\nto go on with them as far as London, so purchased my ticket with\ntheirs, taking steerage passage across the ocean for the third time.\nImmediately after getting my ticket there came upon me a wonderful\noutpouring of the Spirit and an assurance that was unmistakable that I\nwas in divine order. When I told those young missionaries I was going\nwith them as far as London they told me they had been praying that I\nmight be led to do that very thing. After a safe voyage we reached\nSouthampton in seven days.\n\nOne Sabbath afternoon in London when we were holding an open-air\nmeeting on the street, God opened the flood-gates of Heaven, and I\nwith others sang and preached under the power of the Holy Spirit. A\nChristian came and said, \"Sister Wheaton, there is a preacher here who\nwants to speak to you.\" I refused to go, as there were drunkards and\ntoughs on their knees under conviction of sin. I thought he was a\npreacher who wanted to criticise my methods. They called me again, and\nI went to see what was wanted. I found a fine-looking, well-dressed\nman much past middle age under awful conviction of sin. He was a\nbackslider, and had stopped in passing, being attracted by a hymn I\nwas singing--one his mother used to sing. Yet he was unwilling to\nyield himself to God. Some of those in the company had talked with him\nand begged him to kneel. At last his stubborn will was broken, and he\nknelt there on that London street and confessed his sins to God. When\nhe arose from his knees he said he had been on his way with a dagger\nthen in his coat sleeve, to commit suicide, but was attracted by that\nsong his mother used to sing, and could go no further. Thus by the\npower of the Holy Ghost that Presiding Elder was saved on the streets\nthrough faithful, honest trust in God, where the preacher and the\ndrunkard knelt side by side in the dust. I hope to meet them in\nHeaven, and trust that all found peace with God. The word says, \"Go\nout in the streets and lanes of the city, and in the hedges and\nhighways.\" \"Jesus came to seek and to save that which was lost,\" not\nthe righteous but sinners. He came to save. How often people are\nwaiting for Christians, who profess to have salvation, to speak to\nthem, and how glad they are to receive the message if delivered in\nlove.\n\nI was located for a time at Woolwich, near the London Arsenal. There\nwere stationed thousands of soldiers and they were often found in the\npublic houses under the influence of drink. I would plead with them to\nquit sinning, turn to God, and seek salvation. Often tears were shed,\nand resolves made to serve the Lord. There are many incidents of souls\nbeing saved on the streets, in the slums and public houses, but space\nforbids my going into details, but suffice it to say that I have been\ngiven many proofs of God's love and mercy from among the thousands who\nhave heard the gospel in those far-off lands, as well as in our home\nland. Then let us encourage our missionaries everywhere to press on\nuntil the Master says, \"It is enough, come up higher.\"\n\nI was much pained, while in England, to see so many young women there,\nas in Scotland, selling beer and other strong drink to customers in\nthe public houses; beautiful girls selling their souls to the tempter\nto be lost forever unless in some way rescued before it is too late.\n\nDuring this second visit to Europe I was often stopped on the street\nand asked to sing to the people, which I frequently did, regardless of\nremarks or criticisms, and the Lord blessed my singing to the good of\nmany souls. While in London, night after night I would sing and preach\nthe gospel to people who longed for salvation, but knew not how to\nget saved. How often we neglect an opportunity to do good. Years after\nsome of our missionaries returning from Africa, passing through\nLondon, heard the people calling to them, \"Where is that old lady who\nsang for us?\" So we labor not in vain. In due season we shall reap if\nwe faint not.\n\nAfter spending several weeks in England (most of the time in London) I\nsaw that precious band of young missionaries take the steamer for\nAfrica. The next day I embarked for home at Southampton. Soon after\nstarting we sighted the vessel on which they sailed and I could\ndistinguish some of them waving their handkerchiefs in farewell. One\nof them died in Africa ten months later. By and by we shall meet again\nin the Kingdom of heaven, each one, I trust, bringing with us sheaves\nto lay at Jesus' feet.\n\nDuring the return voyage the sea was stormy at times, yet the voyage\nwas made safely, and on Sabbath morning, the day after my arrival in\nNew York, I went to the Tombs prison to hold services. I was very\ntired, and after the services I was so faint I prayed for the Lord to\nopen the way for me to have some refreshments, as I was to preach in\nthe afternoon at a Rescue Mission. There were many elegantly dressed\nlady visitors at that meeting, but they all passed out and left me\nalone, when a young, humble-looking man came to me and said, \"We are\nvery poor, and are able to afford but one meal a day, and not a full\nmeal at that, but it would be such a blessing to my wife and myself if\nyou would come and share it with us.\" My heart was touched that this\nstranger should offer to share the little they had, when others never\nthought of my needs. I did not go with him, although I thanked him; it\nwas so far to his home, but God will reward him. For Jesus said, \"I\nwas a stranger and ye took me in, hungry and ye fed me; I was in\nprison and ye came unto me, sick and ye visited me.\"\n\n    Behold a homeless wanderer, poor and thinly clad,\n    To biting cold a victim, with hunger almost mad,\n    Entering yonder mansion, dares to boldly steal\n    What none should e'er deny a dog--the pittance of a meal!\n    See the greedy sleuth-hounds of the outraged law\n    Wage against this robber an unrelenting war;\n    While _Christian_ judge and jury, with ready wit, declare\n    His crime an awful outrage, that merits prison fare!\n    But he who rears his costly domes\n    O'er wreck and ruin of human homes,\n    Plants in the breast a raging thirst\n    And leaves his victims doubly cursed,\n    Can roll in luxury, loll in pride\n    And, with _the law_, his gain divide!\n    Tho' every dime he pays the state\n    A thousand cost in wakened hate!\n\n                                         --_Geo. W. H. Harrison._\n\n\n        Learn that in many a loathsome cell\n        A prisoned genius or a saint may dwell,\n        Whose power, developed by an act of love,\n        May lead a million to the Courts above.\n        Shall it be yours to touch that vibrant chord\n        And share the honor of the great reward?\n        What heaven endorses that alone can stand;\n        All else is stubble, built on shifting sand.\n\n                                                  --_G. W. H. H._\n\n[Illustration: STATE PRISON, JOLIET, ILL.]\n\n\n\n\n                           CHAPTER XXI.\n\n                         Travel and Toil.\n\n\n                        TWO NIGHTS' SERVICE.\n\nAt one time when suffering from nervous prostration I was lovingly\ncared for for some weeks in the home of dear brother H. L. Hastings,\nof Boston. One night while there I said to him: \"I must go to the city\ntonight.\" He replied: \"Sister Wheaton, have you prayed about it?\" I\nsaid, \"Yes.\" He answered, \"Go and pray again.\" I did so and returned\nto his office, saying, \"I must go to the city tonight.\" They were\nhaving watchnight service in the city. Again he replied: \"The night is\nvery cold and you are sick. Go and pray and find out the mind of God.\"\nAgain I went to my room to inquire diligently of the Lord and was sure\nthat the call of the Spirit was that I should go. Again I returned to\nhis office and told him I must go to the city that night. Once more he\nreplied: \"Sister Wheaton, go and pray.\" As I wept before the Lord He\nshowed me the city given up to idolatry and sin and again I went to\nBrother Hastings' office and said: \"I must go to the city.\" He dropped\nhis pen and hurriedly said: \"Wife and I will go with you.\" It was one\nof the coldest nights Boston had known for years, but from one saloon\nto another the Lord led us and from one watchnight meeting to another\nuntil near midnight we entered a Mission hall. A fine-looking,\nwell-dressed young man from the platform hurried down and said to me:\n\"Mother, I am so glad to see you. Come on the platform and speak to\nthe people.\" I looked at the man and he said: \"Don't you know me,\nmother?\" When I said \"No,\" he answered: \"Don't you know your boy?\" I\nlooked at him--so beautiful in the service of God--and then he said:\n\"I was in prison and you came and prayed and sang for me. I was in the\nhospital, and got saved there, and God is still blessing your boy.\"\nReader, did it pay? Yes, that night my heart rejoiced in my Savior for\nall He had done for me and for my \"children\" in prison walls. For\nseventeen years now this man has been a blessing in helping to save\nothers.\n\nAnother watchnight I spent in St. Louis, Missouri. Feeling weary, I\nwas about to retire for the night, when the Lord showed me to go on\nthe street and do service for Him. So, doubting not, I pressed out for\na cold night's work in the slums. The sister who entertained me went\nwith me to the places of sin and also to six different watch-meetings,\nat which we witnessed for the Master, leaving the results with the\nLord, who said: \"And the books were opened, and another book was\nopened, which is the book of life; and the dead were judged out of\nthose things which were written in the books, according to their\nworks.\"\n\n\n                            ONE WEEK'S WORK.\n\nA few years since, on arriving in Omaha after returning from the East,\nI telephoned the jailer at the county jail: \"Can I have a meeting?\"\n\"Yes,\" came the reply. There were a good many prisoners and we had a\ngood service. Sister Kelley, of Tabor, Iowa, was with me. Our singing\nseemed much appreciated. Went from there to the city jail. Held\nservices there, and in the evening in a Rescue Mission.\n\nAt midnight we boarded the train for Deer Lodge, Montana. En route our\ntrain stopped for a couple of hours at Ogden, Utah, and while there we\nvisited the Florence Crittenton Rescue Home--where we were warmly\nwelcomed by both the matron and the girls and had a blessed service.\nGod bless them all!\n\n[Illustration: PRISON AT DEER LODGE, MONT.]\n\nWe arrived at the State prison at Deer Lodge on Saturday, and had the\nprivilege of preaching to the many prisoners the following day. God\nblessed me in speaking, both to the men and women. We sang many\nold-time hymns and some new ones. Took each prisoner by the hand as\nthey passed out, visited the sick prisoners and went to two churches\nthat night, and visited the women prisoners on Monday morning, and had\nreal victory in prayer for them. Then bidding goodbye to all we left\nfor the prison at Boise City, Idaho, where we arrived Tuesday.\nTelephoned the warden asking permission to hold service at the prison.\nThe privilege was granted and a team was sent for us. We found a large\nnumber of prisoners and the officials kind, and had a good service of\nan hour. Visited the poor, condemned men in their cells, prayed and\nwept with them, and commended them to the great loving God who said:\n\"Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though\nthey be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.\" After seeing the\nsick we left the prison; but my heart was greatly drawn out for those\nmen under death sentence. I felt that one of them (a foreigner) was\ninnocent. I was almost overcome with sorrow. They were my \"children\"\nand I never would see them again in this world, and yet I was\npowerless to help them!\n\nFrom Boise City we went to Salt Lake City. When we arrived at the\npenitentiary there and mentioned our desire to hold a service the\nwarden's kind wife said: \"The warden is in the city and they are under\ncontract and must get their work done immediately--but you lie down\nand rest--you are worn out\" (and I was). So I slept until I heard her\ntender voice, saying, \"Mrs. Wheaton, lunch is ready and the warden\nsays he will give you forty minutes after dinner in the chapel with\nthe men.\" I was so glad and said: \"This is all through your kindness\nand God will reward you.\" I found the men seated, waiting for me, in\nthe chapel and thankfully I improved that opportunity, knowing that\neternity would reveal the results of that service. I was permitted to\nsee the two men under death sentence and sing and pray with them, and\ntell them of a Savior \"mighty to save and strong to deliver;\" then\nwith sad heart I left them--never to meet them again till the trumpet\nshould sound. Precious in God's sight were those poor, forsaken,\ncriminals! And, reader, as I write these lines down in the slums of\nChicago, I see opposite me the saloon open day and night luring men\nand women inside, fitting them also for the prison and perhaps for the\nscaffold!\n\nLeaving the prison at Salt Lake, we hurried to the county jail, held\nservices in two departments, and had a good time with the prisoners;\nthen left for the city jail. Did what work we could there in the\nLord's name and hurried to the depot, only stopping on the way to get\na little lunch for the long journey before us. Weary and faint we\nreached the train just as it was leaving. Too weak to go further I got\nin the first car, which proved to be a dining car. I said: \"The boys\nwill allow me to sit here awhile,\" and I heard a voice saying: \"Come\nin, mother, sit down. You are welcome in my car and you must have\nsomething to eat. You look tired and hungry\"--and wasn't I? And when I\ntold him of my friend in another car he had me bring her also and gave\nus both a good supper, and was I not thankful to God for that kind\nwelcome from the dining car conductor, who knew me? Surely God will\nreward him. I hope to meet and know him in that land where we shall\nnever get weary and hungry.\n\nWe arrived at Rawlins, Wyoming, at nine the next morning. We hurried\nto the prison. It was Decoration Day and most of the guards were off\nfor a holiday--the men being locked in their cells. The warden kindly\nsaid to us: \"I wish I could let you talk to the men, but my officers\nare gone and there is no one to guard them, and I am compelled to\nremain at the office to see after business.\" I was sure God had sent\nus, and said: \"Will you permit us to see the men in their cells?\"\nAfter much deliberation he said: \"I'll tell you what I will do, I'll\nturn the men loose in the dining room if you think you can control\nthem, and let you have an hour to talk to them.\" I said, \"Surely I can\nmanage those men--why, they are my children, sir,\" and so down the men\ncame from their cells and O such a meeting! I was at home and my\n\"boys\" were on their honor and I talked to them as a mother and we\nsang together hymns that they knew, and bless God He was guarding the\nmen, and I had nothing to do with the matter only to obey Him and tell\nthem the old, old story of the redeeming love of a Savior who died to\nsave us from our sins and give to us eternal life. As I grasped each\none by the hand at parting, I found the men quiet and peaceable,\nhumbly begging me to come again. Then I saw the heavy iron doors close\nbetween us and knew I would probably never see them together again as\nwe were there, but looked forward to the great day in which, if he\nwould, each man could have a part in crowning Jesus Lord of lords and\nKing of kings.\n\nAfter having dinner with the few officers present in their own dining\nroom we hurried to the jail. There we were permitted to preach the\ngospel to the prisoners and they received us gladly. As I left the\njailer expressed his appreciation of the visit, saying it was so good\nof us to come to help the prisoners--especially the girls.\n\nArriving at Lincoln, Nebraska, we attended the evening service of the\nNational Campmeeting then in progress there and the next morning went\nto the prison. The warden kindly granted us the privilege of a gospel\nservice with the prisoners. After holding this service and visiting\nthe sick in the hospital we returned to the camp ground. Reached there\nduring a testimony service just in time to be invited by the leader to\nsing a certain hymn. Instantly I was on my feet and soon on the\nplatform saying, \"Yes, I will sing, but first I must sing,\n\n    \"The toils of the road will seem nothing\n    When we get to the end of the way.\"\n\nAnd shouts of praise went up to God all over that ground, for He\nespecially anointed me to sing that hymn. I felt every word of it, for\nthough weary and tired from the journey, I knew God had been with me\nand had given victory all along the way.\n\nIn this brief sketch I have failed to mention some services held in\nmissions and also special services on all the trains on which we\ntraveled--perhaps bringing to some their last warning.\n\nOne night during this week's journey a crowd of drunken men boarded\nthe train. They were so abusive to me that I went outside the car\ndoor. When I went in the next car I found the same kind dining car\nconductor I have before mentioned. At his inquiry as to what was the\nmatter I just knelt and prayed and then told him how the drunken men\nhad acted. He said: \"Come with me. This won't do. I will see that you\nand your sister have a sleeper.\" He went with me into the other car,\nand when the men saw the man in uniform with me they tried to be very\npolite. They were under the influence of drink and in a sense not\nresponsible for their actions. Who is responsible? The saloon, the\nbrewery, the devil who uses these things to make men and women\noftentimes more like fiends than creatures made in the image and\nlikeness of God, and all who fail to use their influence against the\nliquor traffic are responsible.\n\nFrom Lincoln we went to Omaha where we parted feeling that the days\nhad been spent for God and souls--the dear sister to return to her\nwork in the missionary training home at Tabor, Iowa, I to hurry on to\nChicago, taking with me one of the sisters I met for the first time in\nthe slum mission work in Omaha a week previous.\n\nSo we turned over that week's work to the Lord of the harvest, who\nwill see that the seed scattered along life's pathway shall bring\nforth fruit unto eternal life.\n\n\n                          A PROFITABLE TRIP.\n\nWalking along the street in Chicago on my way to the Cook County Jail\nto see the \"car-barn bandits\" and one or two others under death\nsentence, I was impressed that I must go to some State Prison for\nEaster, only two days off. I stopped and prayed, inquiring of the Lord\nwhere he would have me go.\n\nI had been east and just arrived in the city, weary and worn, but I\nknew the voice of God was saying, \"Go!\" but where and by what route I\nknew not. I stood still until the Lord made it plain to go\nwestward--to what place I need not know, but to go to the railroad\noffice and get transportation. When I entered the office the kind\nofficial said, \"What can I do for you, Mother?\" At first I answered,\n\"I hardly know what to ask for, as it is not yet plain to me just\nwhere to go;\" but a little later I said to him, \"I must go to Canon\nCity, Colorado.\" \"All right,\" he said, and gave me transportation. It\nwas then too late, under ordinary circumstances, to visit the jail,\nbut I felt that I must see those condemned boys before their\nexecution, and I prayed that God would open my way and incline the\nheart of the jailer, Mr. Whitman, to grant me the desired opportunity.\nTo my surprise I found Mr. Whitman on the street car. I told him that\nI must leave the city at once for western prisons and asked if he\nwould kindly give me permission to see the condemned men who were in\nhis charge, before I left, as I could not return before the day set\nfor execution. He was very kind and answered, \"Yes, I will send an\nofficer with you to see the boys.\"\n\nThat hour will never be forgotten. Instead of tough, rough looking men\nI found \"mother's boys\" in the prime of their young manhood. Kindly,\ntenderly I talked to them, thinking to myself, what if it were my\nboy, now safe in Heaven? O sisters, it seemed to me my heart would\nbreak as I placed my hands on their heads, so soon to be cold in death\nand commended them to the God who sent His only begotten Son, who,\nwhen on the cross, said, \"Father, forgive them, for they know not what\nthey do!\" I left the prison, praying that my message might not be in\nvain.\n\nUpon leaving Chicago over the Santa Fe railroad on my way west, I\nprayed earnestly for direction as to what prison I should visit on\nEaster Sunday and was impressed to stop at Joliet. The warden, Mr.\nMurphy, and his estimable wife were kind and hospitable, as they\nalways are, and the chaplain was willing that I should have a part in\nthe services on the Sabbath. God was present in power in all the\nservices. Many of the prisoners partook of the communion with their\nteachers and chaplain.\n\nThe Lord alone can reward the warden's wife for her special kindness\nto me at this time, for I was taken sick from overwork and detained\nover Monday. I then left at midnight for Topeka, Kansas, where the\nLord sent me to the railroad shops to hold services at the noon hour\nwhile the men were resting after lunch. Our meeting with them was\nsignally owned and blessed of God. At its close I shook hands with\neach of those hundreds of men and then went to the jail where the Lord\nagain graciously met with us.\n\nReaching Pueblo on our way to Canon City we telephoned the\njailer--also the matron of the Rescue Home--and obtained permission to\nhold services at each on our return.\n\nAt Canon City the warden and his wife gave us a most kind and\ncourteous welcome and he granted the privilege of holding services for\nthe prisoners in the chapel, also at the hospital and cell houses. I\nvisited their night school. It was very interesting to see so many\nteaching other prisoners. The most important part of my work at Canon\nCity, however, was seeing three young men who were under death\nsentence. While I prayed day after day for them, they came to see\ntheir true condition before God and, I believe, gave evidence of true\nrepentance. I hope to meet them all in Heaven.\n\nBut oh, what a sad sight to see those young men in the prime of life,\nsentenced to die; and all on account of strong drink.\n\nHow pitifully they talked of home and mother and innocent childhood\ndays! Their hearts were melted and broken. Poor boys! far away from\nhome and friends, with few to care and many to cry out, \"They deserve\nto die\"--never seeing the cause, the rum traffic. Why not stop that\nwhich sends our young men by the thousands to a drunkard's or a\ncriminal's grave? When I bade these young men farewell they were\ncheerful and confident that the Lord had forgiven them.\n\nArriving at Pueblo on the return trip, we went to the Rescue Home\nwhere we received a kind welcome; also held services in the prison\nthere. I forgot to mention services held in jail and almshouse while\nin Canon City.\n\nAt Denver we found friends who received us kindly. We held services in\ntheir mission church. Also held service in the large jail in which I\nconducted the first meeting ever held after it was built.\n\nLeaving Denver we went to Lincoln, Neb., to hold services in the State\nPrison on the Sabbath. Found there my friends, Warden Beemer and wife,\nwho have always been so kind to me. Our meetings were crowned with\nsuccess and victory. Also did personal work, which is important.\n\nWhile I was there, two new prisoners were brought in.\n\nLeft Monday for Omaha and went at once to the County Jail and held\nmeetings in the three different wards. God blessed His own word to the\ngood of souls! There, as elsewhere, I met some who knew me. From Omaha\nI went to Chicago, where I spent some time in missions, etc.\n\n\n                        SIX WEEKS' SERVICE.\n\nAbout July 1, 1904, I spent some time in St. Louis, visiting the\nslums, dives and saloons, faithfully warning the multitudes I found in\nsin. Left there for Jefferson City, where I held services in the State\nPrison. We give here the following extract written by the sister who\naccompanied me on this trip:\n\n\n                      MY TRIP TO JEFFERSON CITY.\n\n     I was glad to have the opportunity of visiting the prison in\n     Jefferson City with Mother Wheaton, who is one of our oldest and\n     most successful prison workers.\n\n     We were off early Saturday morning, July 2, and arrived there at\n     2:30 o'clock. We had dinner, then went to the prison. The guard\n     first took us to see the women. They were all seated at machines,\n     sewing very rapidly, and I was told I was not allowed to speak to\n     them. My heart ached and I could not keep back the tears as I\n     looked on the precious girls I had labored with in the jail at\n     St. Louis, some seven or eight of them. At 6 o'clock we had a\n     short meeting with a hundred and fifty shop girls. Many of them\n     were moved to tears, and we believe good was accomplished. Sunday\n     morning we had a good meeting in the jail, then at 2:30 went back\n     to the prison and gave the gospel to twenty-two hundred convicts.\n     It was a blessed time. I never saw such attention, and while\n     Mother Wheaton spoke and we sang \"He Pardoned a Rebel Like Me,\" I\n     saw some of them wiping the tears from their eyes. These men are\n     not all hard-hearted. As I looked at them and heard almost all of\n     them join in with us and sing \"We'll Never Say Good-Bye in\n     Heaven,\" somehow I lost sight of the stripes and prison walls\n     and bars, and thought how precious they are in God's sight, and\n     I believe many will be gathered to praise Him, who was pierced\n     for us all. After the meeting a young man asked permission to\n     speak to us; his face shone with the glory of God as he told how\n     he had been there five years, and had been saved two years and a\n     half and called to preach the gospel. He proved his earnestness\n     when Mother Wheaton asked if he would let her try to get him\n     pardoned, and he answered: \"No, I am guilty, and I not only feel\n     it my duty to serve my time, but will make restitution as soon as\n     I am out. Then I shall give myself to the Lord's work.\"\n\nReturning to St. Louis I next went to Denver, Colo., to see Governor\nPeabody in behalf of the three young men who were awaiting execution.\nThe governor was very kind and willing to do what was right. In Denver\nI had services in the jail, also spoke at two meetings and preached at\nnight at a mission church. Next visited the State Reformatory for\nYoung Men at Buena Vista, Colo. Most of the officers and all the boys\nattended the services. Leaving here in the evening arrived at Salt\nLake City next day about noon. I hurried to the State Prison and was\nsurprised to find a new warden, as the former warden had died. It\nbeing a working day had only a short service with the prisoners, but\nit was blessed of the Lord. Then visited the county and city jails,\nholding three services. Leaving here, traveling all night, arrived the\nnext evening at Canon City, Colo. Hurrying to the State Prison we were\nkindly received and permitted to hold services in the cell houses till\n9 o'clock. The warden informed me that one of the boys under death\nsentence had gone insane just the day before and could not be seen.\nOne of the other boys under sentence of death said the last thing that\nthis one had done was to write me a letter, of which I here insert an\nextract:\n\n                                CANON CITY, COLO., July 12, 1904.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:--\n\n     It is with pleasure that I answer your welcome letter, which was\n     appreciated. We are waiting patiently to know the verdict. If it\n     is God's will that I must be taken out of this world, I will go,\n     but it is very hard, as I have done nothing worthy of death, but\n     they look at it different, I suppose. Whatever got me into such a\n     scrape I cannot tell. I have always worked hard for my living.\n\n     Dear Mother, I have done as you requested. I commenced to read\n     the New Testament on the 28th of June and completed it on the\n     10th of July. I never forget to read the Holy Bible and to pray.\n\n     You wished to know if we boys had any work to do. It is beyond\n     the warden's power to let us work under the circumstances, though\n     he is very kind to us; also the other officials. We are allowed\n     all the reading matter we can use and have exercise each day.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton, I hope that we will meet again on earth. If\n     not, I pray we may in heaven. And may our Heavenly Father protect\n     you in the work of His cause. I ever remain your son in Jesus.\n\n                                                    C----. P----.\n\nLeaving Canon City we hurry on, visiting next the State Prison at\nLincoln, Neb. There we found another poor man under death sentence,\nwho gladly listened while I taught him the way of life. Oh, the joy\nthat filled my soul as I told him of the Savior who would pardon all\nhis sins. After seeing the other prisoners who are always glad to see\ntrue friends, we hastened on to Omaha, Neb. Here I held four services\nin jails and Rescue Homes. When leaving Omaha as I was singing on the\ntrain I found some ladies crying; one of them, grasping my hand, said,\n\"When you sang 'My Name in Mother's Prayer,' I thought how often my\nmother, who is in the baggage coach, has prayed for me, and I will\nnever hear her pray again.\" I soon changed cars and bade farewell to\nthe sorrowing friends, hoping to meet them with that mother where\nthere is no death nor tears.\n\n[Illustration: CRIMINAL INSANE HOSPITAL, CHESTER, ILL.]\n\nResting for a short time at Tabor, Iowa, I then went to St. Louis and\non to Chester, Ill., to hold services in the State Prison. We were\nhere four days and held services in the State Prison, jail, and\nCriminal Insane Hospital, where there are more than one hundred\ninmates.\n\nOnce while holding services here one young man was saved and his mind\nrestored. He has now been preaching the Gospel for several years. \"Is\nthere anything too hard for the Lord?\"\n\nWe next visited Gatesville, Texas, where is located the Reform School\nfor Boys. Obtained permission to see the boys and it fortunately being\na holiday I was allowed to hold services in both the white and colored\nwards. The way the boys seemed to enjoy the meetings and to hear them\nsing was encouraging. Leaving for Huntsville, Tex., we went to\ndifferent towns, holding services in jails and on the streets till\nSaturday, when we arrived at Rusk, Texas, and were met by the\nchaplain, Mr. Dawson, who treated us kindly and gave me the privilege\nof holding meetings on the Sabbath. Had a very impressive service in\nthe afternoon in the prison yard where we gathered round a coffin to\npay the last tribute of love to a departed prisoner, after which we\nheld a meeting in the prison hospital.\n\nWe next visited the State Prison at Huntsville, Texas, where we were\nkindly given the entire time in chapel service, and also the privilege\nof holding services in the different wards of the hospital. Here all\nseemed encouraged and were much effected, the tears flowing freely\nupon many of the pale faces.\n\nI received upon this visit the following kind tribute from the\nAssistant Superintendent and Prison Physician:\n\n     I was present at the services conducted by Mother Wheaton at the\n     Huntsville Penitentiary, on August 7, 1904, and noticed with much\n     satisfaction that her remarks and singing were very much\n     appreciated by the men, and many of them seemed very much\n     affected, and I think that the service will be conducive to much\n     good hereafter.\n\n                                                     T. H. BROWN,\n      Assistant Superintendent, in charge Huntsville Penitentiary.\n\n[Illustration: PRISON AT HUNTSVILLE, TEXAS.]\n\n     Mother Wheaton visited the Huntsville Prison Hospital this\n     morning and I think her words of cheer and advice given to the\n     sick will be the means of doing great good.\n\n                                                 W. E. FOWLER,\n                                                Prison Physician.\n\nAt the Woman's Prison, also located at Huntsville, we found over one\nhundred women prisoners all working on the farm except the few white\nwomen. We held meetings with these women in the afternoon and evening\nfor three days, which were blessed of the Lord. While I wept with\nthem I thought of the Scripture, \"Weep with those that weep.\" Jesus\nloved me and saved me and has put a real love in my heart for those\nsouls.\n\nThe kind chaplain took us with his invalid wife on Sabbath afternoon\nto visit the consumptives' prison a few miles from Huntsville. Here\nthe prisoners sick with consumption are located on a farm. Had a\nblessed meeting with them. The weather being so warm my health would\nnot permit me to visit the several stockades in this state, where are\nmines, sugar refineries or farms.\n\nReturning to St. Louis, Mo., worn and weary, we were kindly\nentertained at the Berachah Home for Girls. Again we visited the\nslums, missions, and dives. The sin during these fairs and expositions\nis awful in the extreme. I have no time or desire to go to see the\nsights, but am after souls.\n\nNext we went to Leavenworth, Kan.; was kindly given the hour for\nservice Sabbath morning, at the State Prison at Lansing, also a\nservice with the women prisoners. Also visited the Soldiers' Home, and\nby the kindness of the superintendent was permitted to speak to the\naged soldiers.\n\nWe then found a welcome in the home of Sister Two-good, who\naccompanied us to the Old Ladies' Rest, where I held services in their\nlovely new home. In the evening till after 10 o'clock we were speaking\nto crowds on the streets who seldom attend church.\n\nReturning then to Tabor, Iowa, weary with this six weeks' constant\nservice, I was for some weeks unable to travel. One night when as I\nthought, near death, I cried mightily to God and he heard my cry,\ntouched my body and healed me. After a few weeks' rest, yet scarcely\nable to travel, I started again on my mission seeking the lost.\n\n\n                             RECENT WORK.\n\nDuring these weeks of waiting the responsibility of finishing this\nbook then in preparation, and getting it to its readers bore heavily\nupon me. Knowing that I could not attend to this and continue my work,\nI was in answer to prayer assured that I should be relieved of the\nburden of managing the publication, sale, and distribution of the\nbook. After much prayer about the matter I was relieved of this burden\nin a very satisfactory manner, Bro. C. M. Kelley taking the management\nof the same for the Lord.\n\nWhile yet weak in body, receiving indication from the Lord that I\nshould be about His work, I went on my way, taking with me a young\nsister from the Training Home, who expects to devote her life's\nservice as a missionary in Japan, the Holy Spirit assuring her also\nthat she should accompany me on this trip. I leave it for her to write\nthe account of the following few weeks' work.\n\nI was blessed with an opportunity to travel a few weeks with \"Mother\nWheaton\" in her work in prisons, etc. Leaving the Home at Tabor, Ia.,\nSeptember 28, 1904, we first visited the jail at Council Bluffs, where\nMother Wheaton held a Gospel service. A number of the prisoners asked\nfor prayer. We next went to Chicago, where on the Lord's day we\nvisited the county jail, where were about 540 men and a few women.\nAfter their chapel service we were given access to the corridors where\nwe could talk to all. We also took part in several services at the\nBeulah Rescue Homes, some missions, etc.\n\nOn October 15, we were at Ft. Madison, Iowa, and visited the several\nwards in the State Prison and sang and prayed with the sick. On\nSabbath Mother Wheaton conducted services in the chapel, also at the\ncounty jail and the Santa Fe Railroad Hospital.\n\nWe next attended the National Prison Congress in session at Quincy,\nIll. We here had opportunities to witness for God. Monday evening, by\ninvitation, Mother Wheaton spoke at the Soldiers' Home, where God\npoured out His Spirit and melted the hearts of some who were steeped\nin sin. The following morning we visited the hospital and prayed and\nsang with the sick who seemed very glad to hear the good old-time\nhymns. We then went to the jail where one woman accused of murder was\nespecially touched and broken up, seeing there was someone who loved\nand cared for her. It is the love of Jesus that brings sinners to\nrepentance. The day following, October 18, we held service at the\nChaddick Boys' School which is under Deaconess' management. Here\nMother Wheaton spoke to ninety young boys.\n\nProvision was made for those in attendance at the Prison Congress to\ntake an excursion down the river, but instead of going with this\ncompany we went to the House of Correction, where the superintendent\nseemed glad to have Mother Wheaton speak to the prisoners, both men\nand women, even calling in the men from their work.\n\n[Illustration: GROUP OF DELEGATES AT THE NATIONAL PRISON CONGRESS,\nQUINCY, ILL., OCTOBER, 1904.\n\nMrs. Wheaton in upper right hand corner.]\n\nOctober 19 we returned to Chicago. The next morning we took the train\nfor Marquette, Mich., on the shore of Lake Superior, where is located\na State Prison. Upon our arrival there we went to the chaplain, who\nkindly gave permission to conduct the next Sabbath morning services.\nWe then visited the poor house, where we sang and prayed with those\nwho were lonely and sad, and knew nothing about Jesus. On Saturday it\nwas stormy, but Mother Wheaton held a service at the county jail,\nwhich God blessed. The Lord's day, October 23, was a day long to be\nremembered by many of the prisoners, who that day received a ray of\nhope. The Spirit of God so anointed Mother Wheaton to speak that the\nprisoners seemed to be held spellbound, with hearts open to receive\nevery word and song. In the afternoon we were given the privilege of\ntalking and singing in the corridors and speaking to the prisoners in\ntheir cells. It was told us that these were the worst men in the\nstate, twenty-four of whom were serving life sentences. But God\ntouched their hearts, many being moved to tears. We left some of them\nwith new hopes, calling upon God for help and asking us to pray for\nthem. Mother Wheaton said they were all her own dear boys.\n\nJourneying eastward we held services in Indianapolis, Ind., also in\nthe State Prison at Columbus, Ohio, and in the Woman's Prison at\nAllegheny, Pennsylvania. Sabbath morning, November 5, Mother Wheaton\nspoke in the corridors of the State Prison in Philadelphia, and in the\nafternoon at the House of Correction. Here the Lord wonderfully spoke\nto the hearts of many young girls. Many men were moved upon by the\nSpirit. The officers looked on with amazement to see how attentive\nthey all seemed to be.\n\nAt Trenton, N. J., at the county jail God moved upon hearts and many\nasked for prayer.\n\nAt the State Prison at Trenton, N. J., we received a warm welcome and\nMother Wheaton was given opportunity to preach on the following Lord's\nday in the chapel. We visited the woman's department and held a\nservice with them, all stopping their work and giving attention. God\nmelted the hearts of those women who have gone away from Him. Jesus'\nblood is able to cleanse from every stain.\n\nAfter a few busy days of service in New York city we returned to\nTrenton, for the service in the prison on the Sabbath. We then\nreturned westward by way of Baltimore and Washington, D. C. We next\nheld a service in the prison at Canton, Ohio, and then went to\nMansfield to the State Reformatory, where were nearly a thousand young\nmen. Here God wonderfully answered prayer. The superintendent and\nchaplain were very kind, supplying us with such things as we had need\nof. We arrived in Chicago November 20. Leaving there we went by way of\nMarion and Anamosa, Iowa, where we held services. We arrived at Tabor\non Thanksgiving day, November 24, which was truly a thanksgiving day\nwith us, for the wonderful way in which God had answered prayer and\nbrought us safely through so many dangers and given us such glorious\nvictories in His blessed service.\n\n                             ROSA MINTLE.\n\n[Illustration: INDUSTRIAL REFORM SCHOOL, HUTCHINSON, KAN.]\n\nLeaving Tabor December 15, taking with me Sister Taylor, who for\nseveral years has accompanied me at intervals in my work, silently\npraying for me while I preach, sing or pray, I started for San\nFrancisco, California, via Santa Fe, New Mexico. We stopped at\nHutchison, Kansas, where is located the State Industrial Reform School\nfor Young Men. We net the wife of the superintendent of that\ninstitution, who kindly took us to the school. I had held service\nhere with prisoners who were working on the buildings when they were\nbeing erected.\n\nThe officers arranged for a service in the chapel though it was a week\nday and just before Christmas. The meeting was owned and blessed of\nthe Lord. Also at Santa Fe we were kindly entertained by the wife of\nthe superintendent of the prison, and the officers gave us a service\nin the chapel and the prisoners, both men and women, privilege to\nattend. About half the prisoners being Mexicans I had to speak to them\nby the aid of an interpreter. This service was also signally owned of\nthe Lord. We also held special service with the women.\n\nWe then left for the coast and had several services en route with the\npassengers and railroad men; also with a hundred soldiers who were\ngoing to their winter quarters. I had warned the soldiers about\ndrinking. It seemed so sad to see them drinking and gambling. Poor\nboys, there seems to be no way of restraining them from strong drink\nso long as they can get it. Some trouble arose between them and other\nparties and one of the soldiers was badly cut in the throat. In a town\nin California I held services in a number of saloons and dance halls.\nIt was Christmas day and I never saw more drinking among the people\nand I never want to witness such again. Why will people indulge in\nstrong drink, when God has said no drunkard shall inherit the kingdom\nof heaven?\n\nWe arrived in San Francisco and found many open doors to preach the\nGospel. I visited the State Prison at San Quentin. The chaplain was\nvery kind, giving me privileges of the chapel services and a special\nservice with the women. This prison was first opened to me in 1898 in\ndirect answer to prayer. I also held services in the city prisons.\n\nWe also visited the Federal Prison on Alcatraz Island, where we held\nthree services with the manifest blessing of God upon our souls. The\nkindness of the officers and the appreciation shown by the prisoners\nthere will not be forgotten. I am sure God will reward those who are\nkind to His children, and who assist His workers in any way.\n\nDuring the first four months of 1905 we found much to do for the Lord\nin Los Angeles, San Pedro and other places in California, one of these\nof special importance was the Reformatory at Whittier.\n\n[Illustration: INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL, WHITTIER, CAL.]\n\nEarly in May, having received a letter from one of the boys in\nColorado under sentence of death, I hastened to that state to see the\nnew governor in their behalf. I was kindly received and heard by the\ngovernor, but as the Board of Pardons was to soon meet he declined to\nmake any promises. Tarrying several days for the board to meet, I met\nwith them and made a plea for the lives of the boys who had, under the\ninfluence of drink, accidentally, as they claimed, taken life.\n\nThey received a reprieve for four weeks, but the two who were adjudged\nsane were executed June 16. I give elsewhere an extract from a letter\nreceived from the mother of one of these boys shortly afterward. Also\nan extract from a paper concerning the mother of the other.\n\nAfter returning to Iowa and remaining but a few days, accompanied by a\nyoung sister from the Home, I returned to Colorado, visiting, en\nroute, the jail at Council Bluffs, Iowa, and the State Prison at\nLincoln, Nebraska, where we held service on the Lord's day. We then\nproceeded to Canon City to visit the condemned boys, and held services\nin the corridors of the prison till late at night. We next went to\nBuena Vista, where we held service in the State Reform School for\nBoys, and in the jail. On our return east we stopped at a camp meeting\nat Newton, Kansas, where the Lord blessed in the jail and in the work\non the street. Going next to Chicago we held service in the county\njail with about four hundred men. We next visited the prison at\nJoliet, Illinois, but only had service in the prison hospital and\nproceeded to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, for services on the Lord's\nday; then returned to Tabor, stopping in Omaha and holding a service\nin the county jail.\n\nTaking with me the young sister whom I have elsewhere mentioned as\nhaving first known as an orphan girl, now starting for India, I spent\na day at Plattsmouth, Nebraska, where we talked and sang in a tent\nmeeting, on the street, and in the jail. The time set for the\nmissionary band to sail being near, we hurried westward, stopping at\nbut a few places till we reached Sacramento, where we had work to do\nfor souls in the prison and other places. We next visited the prison\nat Salem, Oregon, and also made a short stay at Portland. Upon\nreaching Tacoma we learned that the time of sailing had been put off a\nweek, so we improved the time seeking out the lost in mission work,\netc.\n\nThe company of nine missionaries, including one child, boarded the\nsteamship \"Minnesota,\" and by the kindness of the general\nsuperintendent of the company we were permitted to spend a night\nbefore sailing on board the vessel with them, which was a time very\nmuch enjoyed in the Lord. The parting was not one of sadness, but of\nsweet peace and calmness. As we looked into the faces of the dear ones\nas they were being borne away we rejoiced that God has a few whom He\ncan trust to carry the precious Gospel to the heathen. As the vessel\nbearing its precious burden sailed from our view, the little company\nof anxious watchers kneeled down and committed the dear ones to Him\nwho has said that His children are as dear to Him as the apple of His\neye. We were afterward delighted to hear that they had a most\ndelightful voyage, reaching Yokohama, Japan, in eighteen days, just in\ntime to escape a very disastrous storm on the sea.\n\nAs a sister had accompanied some of the missionaries to the coast and\nwas to return with me, assisting me in the work, we turned our\nattention to the needs of the lost ones about us. I will let this\nsister here give a brief sketch of our return trip, on which we trust\nmuch good was done for souls:\n\n\n                      RETURN FROM PACIFIC COAST.\n\nMother Wheaton's companion to the coast, Sister Yarrett, having\nsailed for India, it was my privilege to accompany her from Seattle to\nIowa. From the wharf, when we had committed the company of dear\nmissionaries to the Lord, we went to the rooms of the Y. W. C. A. and\nheld religious service while the young ladies had lunch. About two\nhundred young women lunch in these rooms daily. At night Mother\nWheaton spoke at the Life Boat Mission with the anointing of the Holy\nSpirit, and many hearts seemed touched.\n\nEarly the next morning we left Seattle on board the S. S. Whatcom, en\nroute to Victoria, British Columbia. This was a most enjoyable trip to\nme. At Victoria we had a very profitable service in the W. C. T. U.\nRescue Home, and the Lord especially blessed the visit and service.\nLater we spent five days very profitably in Portland laboring in the\nExposition Camp Meeting, visiting the jails, saloons and slums,\npreaching and singing the Gospel.\n\nWe next went to Boise, Idaho, where we held services in the Soldiers'\nHome and in the State Prison. Service with the women prisoners and\nprayer with the men under death sentence were special features of our\nvisit to this place. We next spent a day in Rawlins, Wyoming, visiting\nthe state and county prisons, holding short but profitable services in\neach. In the county jail here a raving maniac was quieted by Mother\nWheaton's singing.\n\nAnother night and day's travel across the plains and beautiful country\nand we were in Omaha, Nebraska. Here we spent several days, being\nentertained in the Tinley Rescue Home. This indeed is a refuge for the\nfallen. Our time here was well occupied in the jails, missions and\nchurches. Then we hurried on to Tabor. I to resume duties in the\nschool room, and Mother Wheaton, after a few days' rest, to continue\nher pilgrimage seeking the wandering and the lost ones of earth till\nshe shall be called from toil to her reward which shall surely be one\nworth gaining.\n\n                                                    EMMA H. HERR.\n\n\n                           ANOTHER TRIP.\n\nAfter attending Prison Congress at Lincoln, Neb., Oct. 21 to 26, I\nleft for western prisons and other institutions. Held services at Old\nSoldiers' Home, Grand Island, Nebraska, the 27th, then went to\nRawlings, Wyoming; held services on Sunday at the prison chapel with\nall the prisoners, then at the county jail. Had great liberty in both\nprisons. Left at night for Salt Lake City, Utah. Found open doors.\nHeld services at state prison jail on Monday afternoon; also in the\ncounty jail, two services. Left that night for Ogden; held services in\nthe county jail and at Crittendon Rescue Home. Left for Deer Lodge,\nMontana, where I was kindly received by the warden, Frank Conley, who\nhas ever proved one of the best of friends to me in my work in\nprison--always arranging for services Sunday or week day and\nentertaining myself and any one I brought with me, and never letting\nme go away without something to help defray expenses along the way.\nSunday afternoon at Butte City held two services at the county jail;\ntook train at night for Walla Walla, Washington and arrived there at\n3:30 a. m., and went to Chaplain Lacornu's home. After resting, prayer\nand breakfast, we went to the state prison, where I held services with\nthe twelve women prisoners; then in the dining room, held services\nwith the men--about eight hundred prisoners. The Lord was present in\nboth services to own and bless and many were helped to a better life\nand higher aims. Left there for county jail where we had profitable\nservice with men and women.\n\nLeft that night for Portland, Oregon. Was kindly entertained by one\nwho has been preaching the gospel for nearly twenty years, who was\nconvicted in prison while I was preaching in the prison in Bismark, N.\nD., one night after nine o'clock. He was converted and has done great\ngood in the work, both in prison and outside ever since. Much of his\nsuccess is due to his faithful Christian wife, who has ever been his\ntrue friend and helpmeet.\n\nCalled on Mrs. Smith, a prison missionary, who for years has done\nmission work in Salem and Walla Walla prisons. Then left for Salem,\nOregon, where I held services with the prisoners in the jail on the\nSabbath day, also with the women prisoners on Saturday afternoon. Was\nkindly received by the Superintendent of the prison and his family,\nalso by the Bible school in charge of Brother and Sister Ryan, where I\nheld services on Sunday night in the chapel with students and\ncitizens. Left Monday morning for the South. Stopped in Sacramento,\nand went to the Rescue Home and held services for the girls while I\nwaited for the train to Carson City, Nevada. Changed cars at Reno and\nwaiting for neither rest or food hurried on to Carson City to see the\nGovernor and the Attorney General about prison work. Found four men\nunder sentence of death. I pleaded with the Governor for a commutation\nof sentence. Governor Sparks asked me if I could meet with the Board\nof Pardons and himself at 2 p. m., and gave me a letter to the warden\nto allow me to see the condemned men and hold services with them--also\nwith all of the prisoners. The Governor also arranged for me to go to\nthe prison with one of the officers. Found the poor men heart broken\nover their condition, and really sorry for their sin. They had all\nbeen drinking, and among the four of them they had killed a young man,\nand all were doomed to die.\n\nWhen I entered their prison with the death-watch I was overcome with\nsorrow for the poor unfortunates who so soon would be in eternity, and\nas I came in the door one of the prisoners said, \"O, it is Mother\nWheaton.\" As I clasped his hand he said, \"Mother, I knew you twenty\nyears ago.\" I said, \"Where?\" and he said, \"In San Francisco.\" Reader,\nyou may try to sympathize or criticize at such a time, with them and\nme, but you never will know what the suffering is until you have\npassed through this ordeal of just standing alone with the good Lord\nand the condemned, so soon to die that horrible death. You cannot\npicture it, for death is awful to those not prepared to die--filled\nwith remorse of conscience and sorrow for the deed done while under\nthe influence of whiskey and possessed with the devil, which the\nstrong drink causes--and then to have no hope in this world or the\nworld to come, and alone with their conscience, the death-watch,\nmyself and our God.\n\nI knelt in prayer. First to ask wisdom of the blessed Christ who never\nturned anyone away, and then, taking each one by the hand through the\niron bars, I was lost to this world and its opinions and criticisms. I\nentered into their heart-sorrow, and at once took hold on God for the\nsalvation of their immortal souls. Quietly, but with strong faith in\nGod and the atoning blood of Jesus our Saviour, I believed for their\nsalvation. Human sympathy will not avail. It is the suffering and\ndeath of Christ which avails in the face of death. And I believe, if\nJacob prevailed in prayer as a prince, it is our privilege to believe\nGod hears and answers prayer and saves to the uttermost the vilest\nsinner who truly repents of his sins, and claims His promises. \"Though\nyour sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they\nbe red like crimson, they shall be as wool.\" Isa. 1:18.\n\nWe wept and prayed together, and while I sang the good old hymns our\nmothers knew and loved and sung for us in childhood, we took hold on\nGod by faith for their souls' salvation, and I believe God heard and\nanswered our prayers, that fifteenth day of November, 1905, in that\nprison, and that those men that day were forgiven their sins. I know\nGod's Word is sure, and I depend daily on the Bible and its holy\nteachings, and accept His promise, and receive the answer from God\nthat His pardon is sure.\n\nI told the men I had no hope for their lives to be spared--that the\nGovernor had not given me any encouragement for them, but had invited\nme to meet with him and the Board of Pardons at 2 p. m., and see what\nthey would do in the case. I pleaded with them to let go all hope of a\nlife sentence, and prepare to die, for there was only one more day for\nthem to live--that I had nothing to give them of hope, only in the\nprecious blood of Jesus--that their days were numbered.\n\nO, the human heart is susceptible to suffering, and my suffering was\nintense for them. I was weak and weary, having traveled two days and\ntwo nights without rest. Yet I could not rest when there was so much\nat stake for them. I abandoned myself to the Holy Ghost to guide me in\nthe service, and then as I took each hand, so soon to be cold in\ndeath, I knew only God could save them. I shall not forget the parting\nwith those poor, unfortunate men, all in the prime of life and\nstrength of manhood. I will meet them again soon in the presence of\nGod.\n\nI was so weak in body that the officer kindly assisted me to the main\nprison, where I was to hold services with all of the prisoners. It\nwas high noon, and the warden and officers urged me to take\nrefreshments. I said, \"No, I am soon going to the judgment, and I want\nto go with a clear conscience. How could I eat, when all these\nprisoners need the gospel so much?\" And they kindly gave me the\nprivilege of an hour's service. Then, after a hurried lunch, which was\nboth breakfast and dinner, the state carriage was ready to take me to\nthe Capitol to meet the Governor and Board of Pardons. But there was\nno hope, the Board refused to commute the sentence, and all four were\nexecuted November 17, for the death of one young man. Soon I must\nstand together at the judgment bar of God, with those whose lives were\ntaken, one by the four under the influence of whiskey, which makes men\nand women crazy and worse than brutes; licensed by the laws of our\nland--the others by the men who, in their right minds, as executors of\nthe law, put to death the helpless victims who had truly repented of\ntheir sins and promised to obey God and the rules, and live good\nlaw-abiding citizens.\n\nI want it understood that I believe in law and its enforcement. I\nsympathize with both the murdered and the murderers. I believe in\nobeying God and His laws and enforcing discipline, and I assist the\nofficers of the state to maintain law and order, but I say, give\ndeliverance from the abominable saloon and all the evil that follows\nin its wake. Give us judges, jurymen and officers, who, in every sense\ntry to banish and abolish the liquor traffic and the dens of sin, and\nthere will be no need of our state officers having to take life which\nnone can give.\n\nLeaving the Capitol after the decision was made by the Board of\nPardons and Governor, I went to the hotel to tell the two sisters of\none of the condemned men that all hope of their brother's life was\ngone, and that they must prepare to face the awful sorrow of losing\ntheir brother. That scene was O, so pitiful! The brother and these two\nsisters were orphans. He was a good boy and supported the two sisters\nafter the parents had died, but he had fallen into bad company who had\nled him astray. The sisters were heart broken. It seemed as if they\ncould not give up that dear brother who had done so much for them. I\nhelped them on the train, and went with them as far as Reno, Nevada,\nand we parted to meet again after all the sorrow and mistakes of our\nlives are forgotten and forgiven.\n\nAfter leaving them I held services for the Salvation Army friends and\non the street. Then left that night, though very weary, for the east.\nAfter taking the train, I could see in my mind those poor condemned\nmen, waiting the few last hours until the law should have its way.\nEternity alone will reveal all hearts and lives.\n\nArrived at Ogden, I went to the Crittendon Home, then on to the State\nIndustrial School for Boys and Young Men, and had a service in all the\ncottages. Was with them two evenings. They all seemed cheered by the\nold good songs and the services. Saying \"Good-bye\" to all in their\ndining room at their daylight breakfast hour, I left them for the\neast.\n\nI stopped at Columbus, Nebraska, a day, and at Omaha, where many\nrailroad friends and others met and greeted me kindly. Then hurried on\nto Joliet, Illinois, State Prison, where dear Mrs. Murphy, wife of the\nwarden, gave me a warm welcome to her lovely home in the state prison.\nWent with the chaplain to visit the hospital and spoke with the men at\nthe Sabbath School hour, and then to the women's prison, where I was\ngiven the privilege of addressing all the female prisoners. Many were\nmuch affected, and shed tears as I spoke or sang to them \"My Name in\nMother's Prayer,\" \"Is There Anyone Can Help Us\" and \"Old Time\nReligion.\" Shook hands with most of the women, prayed and sang for a\nsick girl in the prison hospital, and left for the jail. Spoke there,\nthen on to Chicago. After some days in the city, busy for the Lord, I\nmade a trip to Washington, D. C., and returned before the close of the\nyear, and proceeded to the Pacific coast early in the new year.\n\nO, how I praise the Lord for His grace and love, and the strength and\nendurance He gives me to keep going to carry His messages of love and\ngood cheer to the lost ones in low and in high pursuits of life.\n\nDear Reader: We must here close the account of our travel and toil in\nthe Master's vineyard, and we feel that it will all soon be over, and\nthe victory be won. When I shall have finished my course I want to be\nable to say, like Paul of old, that \"I have fought a good fight.\" I\nwant, too, to know that the crown is laid up for me as one of those\nwho have been faithful and that love the appearing of my Savior.\n\nThough but sixty-one years of age, the excessive toil, the wearisome\njourneys, the heart-rending scenes and experiences for more than\none-third of my life, have told upon my once strong body until I am\nnow a physical wreck. Only in the strength of Jehovah and leaning upon\nHis everlasting arm am I able to pursue the calling He has given me.\n\"But the toils of the road will seem nothing when we get to the end of\nthe way.\" You and I shall meet again, on that great Judgment morning,\nand must give an account to God. \"Grace be with all them that love our\nLord Jesus Christ in sincerity.\"\n\n[Illustration: PRISONS AT JACKSON, MICH., DEER LODGE, MONT., AND\nFOLSOM, CAL.]\n\n\n\n\n                           CHAPTER XXII.\n\n                     Letters from Prisoners.\n\n\nThe extracts from letters found in this chapter are gathered from my\ncorrespondence with those within prison walls who have been encouraged\nby the way and have received help; many of them having borne testimony\nto a clear conversion and a life of service for the Lord, even within\nprison walls. These will serve to show their appreciation of any\neffort made in their behalf. They have been a source of great\nencouragement to me in my work.\n\nI should like to give more of similar character, and all more in\ndetail, would space permit, but let these suffice as examples of the\nthousands of letters I have received during these twenty years from my\n\"children.\" The names and that which might identify the individuals, I\nhave omitted; for many of them are now good citizens and some are\nengaged in the work of the Lord. I have omitted many references to the\ninstrumentality which God has seen fit to use in carrying His message\nof love to these souls, giving only what others thought were needed to\nshow the writers' appreciation and gratitude. I have ever dealt with\nthese, when present and by correspondence, as souls whom I must meet\nat the Judgment. The honor and praise for what good may have been\naccomplished belongs to Him whom I serve, and who has given me the\ncommission, \"Go and preach the Gospel.\"\n\n                                                     Inman, Tenn.\n\n     Dear Sister in the Lord:\n\n     We write you a few lines praying that God will allow you to call\n     again and preach for us, for we believe that the Spirit of God\n     is with you. We need thy aid here. So, our dear sister in the\n     Lord, we do wish to hear you once more, so will come much good in\n     the name of the living God!\n\n                                                   THE PRISONERS.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                          Boise City Penitentiary, July 29, 1890.\n\n     Elizabeth Wheaton, Portland, Oregon.\n\n     Dear Madam: I am instructed to thank you in behalf of all of us\n     for your kind visit. We fully appreciate your labor, your\n     courage, and integrity; your singleness of heart and purpose,\n     your purity of motives; but above all do we appreciate your\n     sincerity. Your indefatigable efforts, even in your old age, to\n     reach the criminal, to lead him upward and onward to his true\n     destiny under so many disadvantages, without money and without\n     price, without the support of state or church, and, I may add,\n     without the support of public sentiment which appears to be\n     against you and us--all this, I say, inspires us with faith and\n     confidence in you. And when I am paying you this tribute, I am at\n     the same time aware that I am paying it to Him who came on earth\n     to seek and save us, for without Him you would not love us as you\n     do.\n\n     Come again, say we all.\n\n                                                       PRISONERS.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Lancaster, Nebr., Oct. 25, 1903.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton,\n\n     Dear Mother: We, the undersigned, as a token of our appreciation\n     of your efforts in our behalf, respectfully request that you\n     accept our assurance of appreciation of to-day's services, and\n     especially the song service held in our cell-house, and best\n     wishes for your future success.\n\n     Signed by 199 prisoners, each giving his number.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Bushy Mountain State Prison,\n                                      Petros, Tenn., May 4, 1896.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton: We, the undersigned, unfortunate children,\n     assemble together to try to show you how grateful we are for the\n     devout interest you are taking in the welfare of our souls. We\n     hope and trust that the Lord will continue to be with you all\n     along your journey, trusting that if we don't meet again on\n     earth, that we may meet in Heaven.\n\n     Pray for us.\n\n     We enclose the following sums for each of us:\n\n                     W. J.        25 cents\n                     W. S.        10 cents\n                     C. R. R.     10 cents\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                      Walla Walla, July 11, 1889.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton,\n\n     Dear Friend: Your postal received. You have the appreciation and\n     kind thoughts of many here for your kind remembrance of us all in\n     our secluded prison home. Aside from your own particular means\n     and the many other ways adopted by religious people to draw the\n     attention of the indifferent to the subject of their spiritual\n     welfare, the evident disinterested motive which characterizes\n     your extended labors, is of itself sufficient, to highly\n     recommend your kind endeavors to all fair-minded people, and to\n     give you a hearty welcome, from prisoners especially, wherever\n     you may find them.\n\n     We would all, therefore, send you a kind word of encouragement\n     and Godspeed in your good work and _labor of love_, believing\n     that your gospel message is fully adapted to meet the spiritual\n     wants of the whole human family under whatever condition found.\n\n                 PRISONERS OF WALLA WALLA PENITENTIARY, Per F. S.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Richmond, Va., August 23, 1885.\n\n     Dear Madam: I take much pleasure to introduce myself to you, and\n     stating to you how I first found rest for my sinful soul. I am a\n     stranger to you by name, but not by the love of Jesus Christ, and\n     I was highly delighted to hear you speak to us. It lifted up my\n     downhearted feeling and caused me to look around myself, and I do\n     truly hope that those words that you have spoken may be as seed\n     sowed in good ground, and take root and the future may tell. And\n     for myself, when I first came to this place I was a vile sinner\n     and thanks be to the good Lord that I have my soul awakened in\n     Christ Jesus, and if it had not been for this place I think that\n     I would have been a sinner until now, but now all my trust is in\n     the Lord Jesus Christ and Him alone. Although I have many crosses\n     and trials and temptations, my trust is in the Lord, and I truly\n     pray and trust the Lord that after awhile we shall all meet in\n     heaven where there will be no more parting.\n\n     I trust you will be successful in this work of the Lord. I desire\n     your prayers.\n\n     I am your humble servant,\n                                                            H. T.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                    Massachusetts State Prison, October 25, 1885.\n\n     Dear Madam: It is with much pleasure that I listened to your\n     address to-day. Please accept my thanks for the interest which\n     you take in the poor unfortunate prisoners. There are many\n     skeptic ones among us because we see so much hypocrisy. May God\n     bless you, and let me inform you that your motherly-like\n     appearance sank deep into the hearts of many.\n\n     Our chaplain tries to do all the good he can, but no one knows\n     what a prisoner's life is but a prisoner.\n\n     My poor mother used to pray like you. I will not forget your\n     earnest advice. I wish there were more like you, for then there\n     would be a true reform in prisons. These places ruin young men. O\n     it is not understood by those men who govern us even. Some of the\n     officers are not fit to be over young men. Every officer should\n     be a religious man, but we have few in accordance with the text:\n     \"Love your neighbor as yourself.\" Many of them take God's name in\n     vain.\n\n     I shall try to think much upon what you said, with God's help.\n     Please pray for an unfortunate one. May God bless you.\n\n                                                            J. J.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                         New York, Nov. 26, 1885.\n\n     My Dear Friend: Your postal reached me this morning and I can\n     assure you it gave me pleasure to hear from you and see you had\n     not forgotten Ludlow Street Jail. Today is Thanksgiving Day, and\n     to us poor unfortunates I can assure you it is a gloomy one, but\n     we must give thanks to our Heavenly Father that we are not in a\n     worse place than this. I for one do pray to Him and thank Him for\n     His kindness and pray to Him to give us strength of mind to\n     resist all temptations.\n\n     I cannot remember who you enquire about. I am the small man who\n     introduced you to my wife and sister the first time you called.\n\n     We were treated today by our kind warden to a good Thanksgiving\n     dinner and I pray before another Thanksgiving Day that I may have\n     the pleasure of seeing you under more favorable circumstances.\n     May God be with you in your good work is the prayer of,\n\n                           Sincerely yours,\n                                                           I. L.,\n                               Ludlow Street Jail, New York City.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                         Cell No. 35--Tombs,\n                             New York City, Sunday, Nov. 1, 1885.\n\n     Dear Sister Wheaton: Forgive me for calling you so as I cannot\n     rightly call you otherwise. Your prayer today came from your very\n     soul. I felt it deeply. It has entered into mine. I feel a new\n     man. You were a Godsend to me. Your words have given new life,\n     they have inspired me to live in the future a real Christian. I\n     feel so light of heart since you were here, that I cannot find\n     words adequate to properly express myself. I pray your good work\n     may be crowned with success. I feel now that I am again a child\n     of God. I shall pray and try to live as Jesus desires. I pray to\n     Him that He will give me all encouragement to lead a Christian\n     life and do His will only. O! how I have learned to love Jesus\n     through your inspiring words of comfort and goodness.\n\n     I shall daily pray for your health and prosperity in Jesus. Do\n     likewise for me, and may we meet in Heaven. To this end I shall\n     ever pray and so sign myself,\n\n                           A brother in Jesus,\n                                                         J. M. S.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     New York, November 10, 1885.\n\n     Dear Sister Wheaton: Many thanks for your kind visit today and\n     for the memorandum book and envelopes you brought me.\n\n     I herewith reiterate every word and the combined meaning\n     contained in my letter to you of last Sabbath. You were a Godsend\n     to me from heaven. Formerly it was a hard task for me to stop to\n     think as I do now. Now I can pray so easy, and it seems to do me\n     so much good. Such a blessing I have never experienced\n     heretofore. With pleasure I give this evidence of the goodness of\n     our beloved and only Jesus. Him I shall worship daily, aye, at\n     all times and in all places. I think of nothing more grand and\n     noble than to believe in our Redeemer who offers His salvation\n     for our souls. He is my God and no other will I have but Him. I\n     love Him truly. In my prayers I have vowed to devote the rest of\n     my life for His good cause. I sincerely hope that many, through\n     you, may come out of darkness into light. God grant you good\n     health to do His good work here. I will pray for you and ask you\n     to do likewise for me, and others.\n\n     I pray to God daily that He may give me renewed strength to keep\n     on in the good path which I have chosen, and may His spirit and\n     love be alike with you and me, is the wish of Your brother in\n     Christ Jesus.\n\n                         J. M. S., Cell 35, Tombs, New York City.\n\n                   *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Charleston, January 4, 1886.\n\n     My Dear and Much Esteemed Friend: As I sit here in the prison\n     tonight I ponder upon the kind and good advice you gave me, and my\n     heart of hearts goes out to you in gratitude.\n\n     My past life has been a blank, in fact, an utter failure. But\n     since I saw you I have come to God in all simplicity and have\n     asked Him to give me a new spirit and pardon my past sins; and\n     since I have offered up this petition my heart seems lighter. How\n     often have I cried out in my despair, O I am weary of the\n     conflicts and strife of this life! weary with the constant\n     struggle for a higher and better life! And when I see the lives of\n     yourself and others--so Christlike, and hear you say mid darkest\n     shadows: \"Not my will, but thine be done,\" then I think of the\n     rebellion in my heart and so oft find when I feel the path I am\n     treading leaves the sunshine all behind.\n\n       As the way looks dark before me and the end I cannot see,\n        Oft I long to drop the burdens and from sorrow be set free,\n       But I know such thoughts are sinful; God knows best the way\n        That will lead from earth's dark shadows to the brighter realms\n              of day.\n\n     Words cannot express the comfort I have received since I saw you.\n     I have prayed to God to help me every night and morning since and\n     as I sit and ponder upon the past and think of the wasted hours\n     that have drifted by, it puts me in mind of a song I learned when\n     I was a child. I will only write you a couple of verses to let you\n     see how true they are.\n\n       \"Oh, the wasted hours of life that have drifted by;\n       Oh, the good we might have done, lost without a sigh;\n       Love that we might have sowed by a single word,\n       Thoughts conceived but never penned, perished all unheard.\n       Take the proverb to thy heart, take and hold it fast--\n       The mill will never grind with the water that is past.\n\n       \"Oh, love thy God and fellow men, thyself consider last,\n       For come it will when thou must count dark errors of the past,\n       And when the fight of life is o'er, and life recedes from view,\n       And heaven in all its glory shines midst the pure and good and true,\n       Then you will see more clearly the proverb deep and vast--\n       The mill will never grind with water that is past.\"\n\n     May God bless you for what you have done for me. You have saved me\n     from that downward road to ruin. May God bless you and permit you to\n     return to us once more.\n\n                                     W., Charleston State Prison.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Nobesville, Neb., April 17, 1886.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton,\n\n     Kind Lady: I will, according to promise, drop you a few lines. I\n     am some better now than when you were here to see me. How glad I\n     am that I met you last Sunday! I have felt better ever since, and\n     I do believe that the good Father will answer your prayers. Don't\n     fail to pray for me, that, if it is God's will, He will heal me,\n     for God has got the same power that He had when He raised Christ\n     from the tomb. And pray that He will give me the guidance of His\n     loving Holy Spirit to lead me into all truth and at the last take\n     me to Heaven.\n\n     There has not a day passed since you were here that I have not\n     thought of you and prayed for you. You did more good here than\n     you know.\n\n     My candle is going out.\n\n     Direct to JOHN W. C., Nobesville, Nebraska.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                               Charlestown, Mass., Jan. 10, 1886.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton,\n\n     To My Dear Sister in Christ: \"Whosoever believeth in Him shall\n     not perish but have everlasting life.\" I believe and trust in\n     God. My faith and my belief grow stronger every day of my life. I\n     pray to God to keep me from evil, and to make me worthy of His\n     kingdom, that I may meet you there, for I am a better man for\n     knowing you. God bless you, my dear sister! My heart is full of\n     love for my God, and for my fellowman. I cannot find words to\n     express my feelings or to tell you how happy I am, and how\n     precious Christ is to my soul. It passes my understanding. But I\n     am satisfied, for I know that Christ has come into my heart to\n     dwell. There are no doubts, no fears, everything is well with me.\n     I thank God for it, and I want to see every one around me\n     enjoying this great gift which comes from God. O how it would\n     have rejoiced your soul to have been with us the last evening of\n     the old year. We had a prayer meeting. I am told that there were\n     one hundred and forty men in the chapel. Our warden was the first\n     to testify. Many acknowledged Christ to be precious to their\n     souls. There are many here that are feeling uncomfortable. They\n     will be at the feet of Jesus yet, crying for mercy. Pray for them.\n     Pray for us all. Only think of it, one hundred and forty prisoners\n     on their knees and their warden kneeling with them! O it was a\n     blessed sight! I never heard Chaplain Barnes pray as he did that\n     night. His whole soul went out to God. How he did plead with God\n     for the salvation of our souls. God bless the chaplain. God bless\n     everyone on the face of the earth, and may every one see as I see,\n     and enjoy what I am enjoying. In His paths there is peace, and\n     that in keeping of His commandments there is great reward.\n\n     There is a young man here by the name of Charles B. He has formed\n     good resolutions with beginning of the new year. I tell him that\n     he cannot keep them without he gets divine help. I am praying for\n     him. Please make mention of him in your prayers, and with the\n     help of God we will have him at the feet of Jesus crying for\n     mercy. We had a prayer meeting last week and I am informed that\n     we are to have them often. How good it is of the warden! God\n     bless him. He is always looking for some way to benefit us. I\n     praise the Lord for it.\n\n     I leave the prison this year. I hope that I may meet you again on\n     earth. If not permitted, I will live a life that shall make me\n     worthy of the kingdom and meet you there. I thank you for the\n     letter read this day to us by the chaplain.\n\n                   Your brother in Christ Jesus,\n                                                         J. L. W.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                              Jeffersonville, Ind., May 22, 1887.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton,\n\n     My Dear Kind Lady: In answer to your request I address this note\n     to you trusting that this may be the commencement of life in a\n     different sphere to that which I have heretofore moved in, so do\n     not think that I am flattering if I tell you the truth. I have\n     traveled from the Atlantic to the Pacific, from the British\n     Possessions to the Gulf of Mexico. I have moved in all classes of\n     society and have been a close observer. I have made myself\n     acquainted with all kinds of religious sects from the Jewish\n     synagogues to Mormonism, Protestantism in all its various forms,\n     Catholicism, as well as Spiritualism, and I found so much\n     hypocrisy and inconsistency existing that I felt inclined to\n     believe Christianity a fraud, but I could see plainly that there\n     were in every church some few that I could feel were true\n     Christians. I could feel a secret convincing power almost\n     irresistible when in their society, but it always seemed strange\n     to me why more true converts were not made in proportion to the\n     great work done.\n\n     It seems to me that the handling of God's cause should only be\n     entrusted to those that are godly--then the fruit will bear\n     witness to the quality and health of the tree. God will prosper\n     His own, but it is not natural that the Lord can or will prosper\n     one who is half God's and half Satan's. That is why I have\n     remained in the world. I am earnest in everything I do. It is my\n     nature, I cannot help it. Therefore, if I ever become a\n     Christian, bold and true and faithful, too, I'll be.\n\n     I must refer to that now which I spoke of in the first of this\n     note. All the convicts in this prison have been moved by your\n     godly advice and teaching as this prison has never been moved\n     before, either by man or woman. You won the hearts of the hardest\n     criminals and a noticeable change for the better has taken place.\n     We all pray God to bless and protect you wherever His wisdom may\n     lead you, and even though this prayer comes from convicts,\n     perhaps God will hear us. Some of us have been convicted by man,\n     while God, being just, and our own consciences declare us\n     innocent. Those of us who are innocent and can suffer with\n     patience, what a virtue we possess. Such strength comes only of\n     God.\n\n     I must close for want of room. Please answer if you have time. We\n     hope to see you soon again.\n\n                           Your humble servant,\n                                                H. McL., Box 340.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Tracy City, Tenn., Dec. 3, 1887.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth Wheaton,\n\n     Dear Friend: Your visit to this place was a great blessing. A\n     great many of the men often speak of you and say that by the help\n     of God they are going to live better the rest of their days.\n\n     I will thank you for every paper or good book you may send to us.\n     The way that we do about papers and books is to place them among\n     our fellow prisoners.\n\n     You have our prayers and best wishes and we hope you will come to\n     our prison again, as your work will be remembered here for years\n     to come. May God bless you all the way along.\n\n     There have been deaths here since you were here. Neither of those\n     parties belonged to the church. Lots of the men spoke of the\n     great warning you gave before you left, what you said about the\n     last warning some of them would ever get, and sure enough it was\n     true.\n\n                         Yours in Christ,\n                                                         W. A. M.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                               Carson City, Nev., Sept. 23, 1888.\n\n     Dear Kind Friend: Through the kindness of the Warden, we received\n     your letter, with the song and accompanying texts, and I take the\n     liberty of answering it and thanking you for your kindness in\n     thus remembering us. I was seriously impressed by your kind words\n     of sympathy and exhortation when you came to the prison and I\n     should have liked to have spoken to you, but feared to trespass\n     too much on your time. I am here under a life sentence for the\n     crime of murder, committed during a fit of delirium resulting\n     from drink. I have been here three years. Hitherto my life has\n     been anything but a happy one. I was driven from home at the age\n     of ten years, after the death of my mother. Since then I have\n     associated with gamblers and men of that stamp, and the result of\n     my ill-directed course is my present unhappy condition. What I\n     have suffered, no one but myself will ever know. I would gladly\n     end my life, if my death could blot out the crimes for which I\n     suffer. I have one friend, who has taken an interest in me, and\n     who has written me several kind letters and I thank God for\n     letting me have one kind and faithful friend. She is weak in\n     body, but strong in mind, and a faithful servant of God. She has\n     advised me to give myself to God, and since you were here I have\n     resolved to try to do so. Peace of mind is what I want, but fear\n     I shall never attain it. I hope to hear from you again. Most of\n     my fellow prisoners have read your letter and all entertain the\n     greatest respect for you. Some to whom your kind words and\n     motherly advice have brought tender memories, desire to be\n     remembered to you.\n\n     You are passing through ... , where I have lived and where I\n     spent the happiest of my boyhood days, but they are gone. I hope\n     you may meet some of my old companions and that they may be\n     benefited by your kind words.\n\n                     Your humble, grateful servant,\n                                                               M.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n     Stillwater, Nov. 2, 1888.\n\n     Dear Sister Wheaton: I was pleased beyond expression to receive\n     your letter. It came like a benediction. I shall never forget\n     you. The few words spoken have left an impress upon the tablets\n     of memory that time can not efface. You can tell the boys\n     wherever you see them in prison or out that Jesus is near--ever\n     near. Tell them that I know that no locks ever were made that can\n     lock the Saviour out. He came to me when I was, oh, so lonely, so\n     broken-hearted and despairing! You know just how it was I was\n     saved.\n\n     I am innocent in the presence of God, and still I am here; but\n     never alone. Jesus is ever with me. Oh, how I wish every one in\n     the wide, wide world could know our Saviour! How true is the\n     fourteenth chapter of John, and especially the eighteenth verse:\n     \"I will not leave you comfortless. I will come unto you.\" Never\n     in all my persecution and imprisonment has my Lord failed in that\n     promise. I am very hopeful. My innocence is recognized and I hope\n     soon to be at liberty. Had any one told me twelve months ago that\n     this was all for my good I should have laughed them to scorn;\n     but, thank God, I know it now. This life is but a few days at\n     most compared to the home beyond, and I can and do say, \"God's\n     will be done.\" He can do no wrong, and right must prevail. God\n     bless and prosper you until you go home.\n\n                               Yours in His name,\n                                                            H. R.\n\n[Illustration: A WARD IN PRISON HOSPITAL.]\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                       Stillwater, Nov. 14, 1888.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton: I received your letter and it came just\n     right to comfort me, for I am in the hospital. In prison--not\n     alone. In the hospital--not alone. Jesus is always with me. How I\n     love Jesus who died for me! My heart always turns to Him, and\n     when I heard I had to come to the hospital I just prayed to Jesus\n     and left it all to Him, and I am cheerful and happy and hopeful\n     even here. He is the Great Physician.\n\n     I can do anything for Jesus' sake but I am in such a queer\n     position! Poor mother has been nearly killed and heart-broken\n     about this, and she claims my presence for a time at least if I\n     get out. Poor mother is nearly worn out but full of faith and\n     hope. May God bless you and be with you forever.\n\n                   Your son and brother in Christ,\n                                                            H. R.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Little Rock, Ark., June 10, 1888.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Sister: I will take the liberty and let you and Sister M.\n     know who I am. My name is C. S. I guess you remember the coal\n     mines and that evening when I was singing with Sister M. in her\n     book. O I wish I had them songs!\n\n     I am so happy in Christ. I am going home to my mother above. I\n     hope it will be very soon. That song\n\n       \"A Ruler once came to Jesus by night\n      To ask Him the way of salvation and light,\"\n\n     made me a different man.\n\n     O the happy thoughts of a home which Christ our Redeemer has\n     prepared for us and calls us to come to Him. \"Come unto me all\n     that are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.\" O, such\n     a Saviour! Pray for me and I hope we may meet above. I hope to\n     hear from you soon.\n\n                        From your servant,\n                                                            C. S.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                    Little Rock, January 13, 1889.\n\n     Mr. J. M. Ryder,\n           Indianapolis, Ind.\n\n     I received your most welcome letter and thank you for the\n     information you have given me, but I haven't heard yet from your\n     sister. The last letter I got she said that she was going to\n     California. At that time she was at Salem, Oregon. Have you heard\n     from her yet? There are some boys and men here would like to hear\n     from her, for she came where some of us could not see the sun in\n     a week, and about 150 feet under the surface of the earth. That\n     was at a coal mine.\n\n     We all hope and pray to God, our dear Redeemer, for her to come\n     back to us again.\n\n     Please answer this for I am a convict and glad to hear from such\n     friends. In hope to hear soon, I remain,\n\n                              Yours sincerely,\n                                                            C. S.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Germantown, Ark., Nov. 29, 1889.\n\n     My Dear Sister: I am at Germantown at the present time working on\n     Mr. W. H. Ward's farm or plantation, and the Warden of the camp\n     and the guards are followers of Christ. There are several of the\n     boys with me which were at Coal Hill at the time you were there.\n\n     O sister, God worked that all right, His name be praised. One of\n     the Coal Hill wardens got five years in the penitentiary. That is\n     God's work.\n\n     God be with you and bless you is my daily prayer, that you will\n     keep strong and well to preach to the poor prisoners and pray for\n     them that they will \"flee from the wrath to come.\" O sister it is\n     terrible to think and study over how the Book of Life tells us\n     about that everlasting torment, and how sweet it is to think that\n     there is a life eternal.\n\n     Sister, there are three ways, \"a broad road,\" \"a narrow way\" and\n     \"a highway,\" that are thus brought to our attention in the\n     Scriptures.\n\n     The broad road to destruction, the narrow way to life, the\n     highway to holiness.\n\n     \"And an highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called\n     the way of holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it; but it\n     shall be for those, the wayfaring man, though fools shall not err\n     therein. No lion shall be there, nor any ravenous beast shall go\n     up thereon; it shall not be found there, but the redeemed shall\n     walk there.\" Isa. 35: 8, 9. Sister, am I right or wrong?\n\n     The first great judgment (trial and sentence) was at the\n     beginning, in Eden, when the whole human race, as represented in\n     its head, Adam, stood on trial before God. The result of that\n     trial was the verdict--guilty, disobedient, unworthy of life; and\n     the penalty inflicted was _Death_. \"Dying, thou shalt die,\" and\n     so \"In Adam all die.\" But, dear sister, the sweet and dear\n     thought in \"Christ we all shall live\" is a great comfort to our\n     poor souls. Ours is a rugged, steep and narrow way, and were it\n     not that strength is furnished for each successive step of the\n     journey, we never could reach the goal, but our Captain's word is\n     encouraging: \"Be of good courage, I have overcome\"; \"My grace is\n     sufficient for thee, and my strength is made perfect in\n     weakness.\" The difficulties of this way are to act as a\n     separating principle to sanctify and refine \"a peculiar people,\"\n     to be \"Heirs of God and joint-heirs with Jesus Christ.\" In view\n     of these things, \"let us come boldly to the throne of grace, that\n     we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need,\"\n     \"while we fight the good fight of faith and lay hold of the crown\n     of life.\" Immortality, the divine nature.\n\n     Sister, I hope that we may meet together here in this world once\n     more in life so we can talk about what Jesus has wrought, God\n     will be with you. I know He is with me. Sister, I gave myself to\n     Jesus and I feel more satisfied, and how sweet it is to have\n     Jesus with you.\n\n                      THE DAY IS AT HAND.\n\n        \"Poor, fainting pilgrim, still hold on thy way,\n          The dawn is near;\n        True, thou art weary now, but yon bright ray\n          Becomes more clear.\n        Bear up a little longer; wait for rest;\n        Yield not to slumber, though with toil oppressed.\n        The night of life is mournful, but look on the judgment near.\n        Soon will earth's shadowed scenes and forms be gone.\n          Yield not to fear.\n        The mountain's summit will, ere long, be gained\n        And the bright world of joy and peace attained.\n        Joyful through hope, thy motto still must be--\n          The dawn is near.\n        What glories will that dawn unfurl to thee!\n          Be of good cheer.\n        Gird up thy loins, bind sandals on thy feet,\n        The way is dark and long, the end is sweet.\"\n\n     I hope to hear soon from you, dear sister. Meet me in heaven.\n     Jesus is with me. Because He cometh to judge the earth, let the\n     heavens be glad and the earth rejoice.\n\n                          Your brother,\n                                                            C. S.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                       Germantown, Jan. 27, 1890.\n\n     Dear Sister: I received yours of the 28th. I am so glad that you\n     have not forgotten me, and the words which I heard you say,\n     although it is a long time since you said them at Coal Hill.\n     \"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.\" Acts\n     xvi., 31. Jails are dark, dull, damp, loathsome places even now;\n     but they were worse in the apostolic times. I imagine tonight we\n     are standing in the Philippian Dungeon. Do you not feel the\n     chill? Do you not hear the groan of those incarcerated ones who\n     for ten years have not seen the sunlight, and the deep sigh of\n     women who remember their father's house, and mourn over their\n     wasted estates? Listen again. It is enough. Oh, it is the cough\n     of the consumptive, or the struggle of one in a nightmare of a\n     great horror. You listen again, and hear a culprit, his chains\n     rattling as he rolls over in his dreams, and you say: \"God pity\n     the prisoner.\" But there is another sound in that prison. It is a\n     song of joy and gladness. What a place to sing in. The music\n     comes winding through the corridors of the prison and in all dark\n     wards the whisper is heard: \"What's that? What's that?\" It was\n     the song of Silas and Paul in prison, and they cannot sleep.\n     Jesus went to prison then, and as you say He will and does come\n     nowadays also to visit the prisoners as they are shut up. God\n     will be and is our helper. I will not fear, He leadeth me in\n     pastures green.\n\n                        Your brother in Christ,\n                                                            C. S.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                        Germantown, May 16, 1890.\n\n     Dear Sister: Your letter of February 17th duly received, and glad\n     to hear from you. But, sister, I am so glad to have some\n     Christian friend to write to me in a place of temptation and\n     trouble. I know that Jesus is my rock and my salvation and a\n     shelter in a storm. Jesus is with me right now. He is waiting for\n     us every day and hour. O, how many will there be that will call\n     on Christ on that day, when the book of the Lord will be opened,\n     with the seven seals, and who will be able to open the seals? No\n     one is able to open it but the Lamb. Sister, this is my idea and\n     opinion about that Day: There will be a great big scale, with a\n     cross beam and Satan will be on one side of it and the people of\n     all trades will be weighed, and if Christ the Son of God and our\n     Redeemer is not there to balance them, what will become of them?\n     Won't they be thrown down in hell?\n\n     Hoping and trusting faithfully that there be many of the poor\n     prisoners among the hundred and forty and four thousand with the\n     Lamb on Mount Zion, with the Father's name written in their\n     foreheads and the harpers will be harping with their harps and\n     singing the new song which no man could learn, but the hundred\n     and forty and four thousand which were redeemed from the earth.\n     O, what a day that will be! O that song is so true. O sinner give\n     your heart to God and you shall have a new hiding place that day.\n     O the rocks in the mountain shall all fade away and you shall\n     have a new hiding place that day. \"O sinner turn, why will ye\n     die? God in mercy asks you why.\"\n\n     O, I am so happy tonight!\n\n                               Your brother,\n                                                            C. S.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Germantown, Ark., Dec. 18, 1890.\n\n     Dear Sister: Your kind words gladly received, and may God bless\n     you and give you strength in your undertakings.\n\n     Sister, forgive those wicked men who put you in prison for\n     preaching the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, for He, the Lord,\n     said: \"Father forgive them, for they know not what they do,\" and\n     Silas and Paul in prison sang praises to the Lord our God and He\n     delivered them from the prison in which they lay, and the jailor\n     got saved.\n\n     Oh! my dear sister, I trust and pray to the Lord that we could\n     safely say with Robert McChane, the ascended minister of\n     Scotland, who, seated on the banks of Galilee's Lake, wrote, in\n     his last sick days, and just before he crossed the Jordan (not\n     the Jordan that empties into the Lake of Gallilee, but the Jordan\n     that empties into the \"sea of glass mingled with fire\"), these\n     sweet words, fit to be played by human fingers on strings of\n     earthly lute, or by angelic fingers on seraphic harps:\n\n       \"It is not that the mild gazelle\n         Comes down to drink thy tide,\n       But He that was pierced to save from hell,\n         Oft wandered by thy side.\n       Graceful around thee the mountains meet\n       Thou calm, reposing sea;\n       But, ah! far more, the beautiful feet\n         Of Jesus walked o'er thee.\n       O Saviour! gone to God's right hand,\n         Yet the same Saviour still,\n       Graved on thy heart is this lovely strand\n         And every fragrant hill.\"\n\n     O! is it not good to be with one's Lord and to think how sweet He\n     says in his Book of Books: \"I am the way,\" and in danger He\n     speaks again: \"Fear not, it is I.\"\n\n     The Lord is with me for I do not have to work in the ranks any\n     more, and by His help I am assistant postmaster of this place.\n\n     Until we leave, and that time will be Christmas, address your\n     next letter to Little Rock.\n\n     That you may save many souls from everlasting torture is my\n     prayer every hour. My love to the poor sinful prisoners and to\n     you, my dear sister in Christ.\n\n     A happy Christmas, and may God bless you to live and see many\n     more.\n\n     I will sing now:\n\n        \"I was once far away from the Saviour\" and\n\n        \"When Jesus shall gather the nations before Him at last to\n        appear.\"\n\n     Oh! I am so happy! Goodnight,\n\n     Ever,\n                                                               S.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                                 Wichita, Kansas.\n\n     Dear Sister:\n\n     This is to acknowledge yours of the 15th inst., and was glad to\n     hear that you have received my letter. Well, sister, we have our\n     regular meeting every Sunday, and I will never cease praying to\n     the Lord that He may help me to live my life, and that I can say,\n     like our great Brother said, that no man can measure the glories\n     which God has revealed to us. Glory to Thee, O God, glory to\n     Thee! * * *\n\n     It is said that religionists make too much of the humanity of\n     Christ. I respond that they make too little. If some doctor or\n     surgeon of His day, standing under the cross, had caught one drop\n     of the blood on his hands and analyzed it, it would have been\n     found to have the same plasma, the same disk, the same fiber, the\n     same albumen. It was unmistakably human blood. It is a man that\n     hangs there. His bones are of the same material as ours. His\n     nerves are as sensitive as ours. If it were an angel being\n     despoiled, I would not feel it so much, for it belongs to a\n     different being. But my Saviour is a man and my whole sympathy is\n     aroused. Jesus our King is dying. Let couriers carry the swift\n     dispatch. His pains are worse; He is breathing a last groan;\n     through his body quivers the last anguish. The King is dying; the\n     King is dead! His royal blood is shed.\n\n     I can imagine something of how the spikes felt; of how the\n     temples burned; what deathly sickness seized His heart; of how\n     mountain and city and mob swam away from His dying vision;\n     something of that cry for help that makes the blood of all ages\n     curdle with horror: \"My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?\"\n     * * *\n\n       O! Jerusalem, my happy home,\n         When shall I come to thee;\n       When shall my sorrows have an end?\n         Thy joys, when shall I see?\n       Jerusalem, my happy home,\n         Would God that I were there!\n       Would God my tears were at an end,\n         Thy joys, that I might share.\n\n        I am so glad that I can write to you. I never will cease praying\n        for you.\n\n     I remain, your brother.\n\n                                                            C. H. Z.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                         Washington County Jail.\n\n                                Greenville, Miss., Jan. 29, 1889.\n\n     My Dear Sisters:\n\n     I cannot express my feelings when I read your kind letters. They\n     make me feel as though you were still at my prison door. I know I\n     am not the same boy that came to prison. I feel much better in\n     every way. I read my Bible instead of novels, and find more\n     pleasure in it.\n\n     I expect to get out of prison soon, and when I do I want to write\n     you a long letter. Mr. McL. was to see me to-day, and read your\n     letters. He said he would also write you to-day. There is a great\n     change in him since you were here.\n\n     All the boys send love. Direct me as before, care Geo. S. If I\n     get out I will work for him here. I am, as ever,\n\n              Your true friend and brother,\n                                                         J. F. D.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                       Penitentiary at Yuma, Ariz., May 19, 1889.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Friend: Your kind letter, written from Los Angeles, Cal.,\n     has been received, after much delay. We are all glad to hear from\n     you, and thank you very much for your kind remembrance and the\n     good advice given to us in your letter, and when you spoke to us\n     here in the prison. Most all the boys hold you in kind\n     remembrance and often express their wishes to see you and hear\n     you talk again, and I sincerely hope it will be convenient for\n     you to call and see us in the near future. The short visit you\n     paid us awakened earnest thought in a number of the boys, and I\n     am confident a few more such visits would result in much good to\n     many of the inmates of this institution.\n\n     Asking your prayers, I remain,\n\n                             Respectfully,\n                                                         J. E. W.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Illustration: KITCHEN AND DINING ROOM OF PRISON, DEER LODGE,\n     MONT.]\n\n                                       Deer Lodge, July 15, 1889.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton.\n\n     Madam: I received your postal last Friday, and was very pleased\n     to hear from you and to know that although far away you still\n     hold us in kindly remembrance. There are so few who think of us\n     after the prison door has closed. The boys who were so fortunate\n     as to meet you, and even those who only heard of your good work,\n     wish to be remembered to you. So far as we are personally\n     concerned, there have been no changes, and we will very probably\n     go through the same routine day in and out until our several\n     times have expired.\n\n     I can safely say that you have made a greater impression upon us\n     than any others we have been privileged to hear. In the\n     intercessions you make with the Ruler of All, we ask to be\n     remembered, and hope that you will receive all the returns of\n     good which your work so richly merits. If you can find time in\n     the future, you can give us no greater pleasure than writing us,\n     even if only so much as may be placed upon a postal.\n\n                     Yours very sincerely,\n                                       HERBERT A. M. (Librarian).\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n                          Cole City, Dade Co., Ga., July 5, 1890.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton:\n\n     Yours of May 25th received yesterday in this camp and contents\n     duly noted. How it thrills the hearts of the boys to hear the\n     reading of a letter written by the hand of \"Mother Wheaton,\" the\n     friend of the unfortunate ones. Dear Christian Mother, you can't\n     imagine the encouragement it gives to the boys here, especially\n     those who are trying to do right. Your work has been implanted\n     here so very deep that God cannot, according to His promise,\n     obliterate it, for He approves of all good works. You shall have\n     our prayers, and we desire to have your presence again when\n     possible.\n\n     I intended to take your letter to Rattlesnake Camp No. 4 to read\n     to the boys up there, as Capt. Brock promised me I might go, but\n     for some reason, I know not what, I failed to get off, but I do\n     hope and believe the way will be opened for us prison-bound boys\n     who desire to do a work for Him to do it without fear.\n\n     I received also enclosed in your letter a most interesting\n     pamphlet of \"Capt. Ball's Experience,\" which is so grand. Also\n     another of the \"Widow and the Judge.\"\n\n     We have a very good Sunday school here now, and I am trying to\n     make it as interesting as I possibly can, and any books and\n     Sunday school papers and catechisms you can send us will be quite\n     a favor. That would have been my business at No. 4 Camp to-day,\n     if I could have gone, to organize a Sunday school.\n\n     I must close by asking an interest in your prayers. Write often.\n\n                Your friend and brother in Christ,\n\n                                            J. W. S., Camp No. 3.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n               Eastern Penitentiary, Philadelphia, Dec. 15, 1890.\n\n     Dear Madam:\n\n     Your invitation given any of the prisoners who may wish to write,\n     I for one accept. I was greatly impressed with your words of\n     truth and the earnest, determined manner in which they were\n     spoken. I believe they proved an exception to the routine of\n     professed Christianity we are used to, and have set more than one\n     mind to thinking of their spiritual condition. I assure you they\n     were not without effect, and that you are engaged in a noble\n     work, of which I and others would be glad to hear more.\n\n     True it is that in the world around us are many persons\n     struggling with poverty as great as ours, who are loaded with\n     cares and anxieties which seem to hinder them in the service of\n     God. There are many who cannot offer him a pure heart which has\n     never been stained by sin, yet in the grief for misspent time and\n     neglected grace would gladly atone for the past by fervent,\n     grateful love, casting themselves upon the mercy of the Saviour.\n\n     I am an old soldier, have fought in the late war, but the\n     greatest battle I have yet to fight is with myself--the battle of\n     reformation.\n\n     Almighty God, in His wondrous wisdom, has chosen His saints from\n     every rank of life--some poor and unknown to the world while they\n     are in it; others great and powerful; no two have been exactly\n     alike, even in their way of pleasing the Lord.\n\n     The \"boys\" here are satisfied your mission was for good, and left\n     them knowing that for once they were not locked up within the\n     hearing of false professors. To say that \"locks\" would not be\n     necessary to hold a congregation within your hearing would be\n     well founded. For a great many others this could not be said.\n\n     The boys from Block 9 send you their respects, and would be glad\n     to hear from you again; would be glad to hear that you received\n     this and that our appreciation of your service be accepted.\n\n                    Respectfully yours,\n                                                          A 2552.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n         Washington County Jail. Greenville, Miss., Jan. 9, 1890.\n\n     Dear Sister:\n\n     Your postal of the 5th to hand. The boys are all glad to hear\n     from you.\n\n     Mr. McL. was acquitted and was the proudest boy I ever saw. The\n     St. Louis boy also got free and went home to his mother.\n\n     There has been a great change in the prisoners since you were\n     here. They are always praying and singing, and you are remembered\n     in every prayer. I don't think I am the same boy that came to\n     jail; I know my poor old mother will be proud of me when I see\n     her again. She lives in Mobile, Alabama, and it has been three\n     years since she saw me, but I am praying to meet her soon and be\n     a son to her, as I never was before. I feel like I could teach\n     young men some good lessons if I get out of this place.\n\n     We received some reading matter from you a few days ago. Please\n     let me hear from you whenever you can spare the time to write.\n     All the boys join me in love and hope to hear from you again\n     soon.\n\n                 Your friend and brother,\n                                        J. D. (alias the Artist).\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n              Penitentiary, Salt Lake City, Utah, April 14, 1901.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton,\n\n     Dear Madam: Your welcome and interesting letter to hand and\n     contents noted, being exceedingly pleased to hear from you. In\n     response would state, your letter, though a great surprise, has\n     been read by many of the inmates of this institution with great\n     interest, you being the only one, so far, who has shown enough\n     respect for us to address a few lines to us by mail. For this\n     kindly remembrance and respect, please accept our united thanks,\n     with the wish that as you are journeying along life's pathway you\n     may escape many of the annoyances which you have been subjected\n     to in the past, while dispensing the gospel tidings to a class of\n     unfortunates. After your departure from here, am pleased to\n     state, the \"Boys\" have taken a deeper interest in Jesus and His\n     works than ever before, and I verily believe that were you to\n     come again you would have no difficulty in bringing many of them\n     to the foot of the Cross. Bibles that have lain for months in\n     cells, covered with dust, have been taken up and read with\n     avidity, selecting texts as you suggested for future guidance,\n     and many are the prayers and kind words which ascend nightly to\n     the Throne of Grace in your behalf--prayers for your future\n     guidance and welfare, with health to sustain you in your glorious\n     work of reclaiming the erring and fallen. God speed the good work\n     along! We wish there were more like you, to bring a few kind and\n     cheering words to sustain us, while undergoing this isolation.\n     Your voice has lingered in our ears ever since you left, and many\n     of the boys here would like to secure, if they possibly could, a\n     copy of that wonderful song you sang for us, \"Throw Out the\n     Life-line.\" If you would kindly forward a copy, as it is not in\n     our hymn-books, it would be very acceptable.\n\n     You may rest assured, no firmer, truer or better friends are to\n     be found than those you possess in the Utah Penitentiary. Allow\n     us to hope that when comparing this institution with some of the\n     grander ones you may visit in the East, you will not speak\n     disparagingly of your boys out West, but remember there are as\n     many honest hearts beating beneath striped jackets here as you\n     will find anywhere, with none more willing to do you a favor. In\n     conclusion, accept our united and kindest regards. Hoping that\n     after your life's labors are finished on this earth, you may find\n     that \"Haven of Rest,\" where it shall be said to you, \"Well done,\n     thou good and faithful servant; enter ye into the kingdom of\n     Heaven,\" trusting these few lines may give you further\n     encouragement, and hoping to hear from you again, with united\n     thanks for past remembrance, I remain,\n\n     Yours most respectfully,\n                                                            M. M.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                              Baton Rouge, La., October 11, 1891.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton.\n\n     My Dear Sister: Yours addressed to the boys in prison here was\n     received, and I shall take the responsibility of answering your\n     letter, which is so full of the Word of God.\n\n     Your songs I shall never forget. I wish you could come and pray\n     for us and sing those sweet songs to us every day.\n\n     I have got a life sentence in this prison. I do not know whether\n     you remember me or not, but I remember you and always will, I\n     hope, and I pray to meet you in Heaven. Since I listened to the\n     songs you sang, I have felt that I was nearer Heaven than ever\n     before. Your few minutes with us in this prison helped me more\n     than all others that I ever heard preach the Word of God. Your\n     service enlightened me more. I feel better and I think that every\n     one in here will long remember your few minutes' talk with them\n     on that blessed Sunday morning. I shall constantly pray and try\n     to become as pure in heart as I think you are. Your home is\n     surely in Heaven, and I will endeavor to reach that home and\n     meet you there. Pray for me that I may become acceptable in the\n     sight of our Lord.\n\n     I pray the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and\n     the communion of the Holy Ghost be with you.\n\n                                                            B. P.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Lancaster, Neb., Oct. 25, 1891.\n\n     Our Dear Sister in the Lord:\n\n     I received your kind note through our Brother Burge. I am\n     thankful for your words to us and for the encouragement I\n     received through you. I am trying to live a Christian life, to\n     follow the teachings of the words of God in the book He has\n     given. I am persuaded of myself I can do nothing, but by the help\n     of God and our Saviour I am able to resist temptations and sin.\n     The world looks down upon me from two standpoints--the one\n     because of my color, and the other because I try to serve the\n     living God through Christ our Lord. I feel that I am weak and\n     need much help, both from the Lord and from the brethren and\n     sisters. I need your prayers daily to help me in my surroundings\n     and trials. We are hated and mocked, but this does not move us.\n     My faith is strong and I will, through the grace of God, meet you\n     in Heaven. In my imagination I still hear those words that you\n     spoke to us, and I hope they will continue to ring in my ear.\n\n     I do not fail to mention you in my prayer to God the Father, in\n     the name of our Lord and Master.\n\n     Our chaplain has just returned from the prison congress and he\n     gave us a talk on prison reform.\n\n     From your brother that is colored, that had a talk with you in\n     the warden's office.\n\n                                                  J. H. No. 1579.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                       West Virginia Penitentiary, Jan. 31, 1892.\n\n     Dear Sister Wheaton:\n\n     Your letter to \"Boys in the Penitentiary\" was received, and it\n     gave me pleasure to read it to them in the chapel, as also that\n     enclosed for the female prisoners; and after reading the latter\n     the officer in charge gave it to the sisters, and they can digest\n     its helpful contents in the quietude of their own apartments.\n\n     At the very mention of a letter from you I could see many faces\n     light up with interest, and I am sure your earnest and faithful\n     appeals for recruits to the Master's cause on your visits to this\n     place will never be forgotten; also that many hearts feel to\n     thank you for the kindly and unabated interest that prompted your\n     letter of cheer and encouragement. God bless you with power by\n     His Spirit in your noble work. Twenty-six lifetime men are\n     confined here, and I am one of the number; but I am glad to tell\n     you that even here I have learned a freedom which is not\n     compassed by iron bars, and I am looking forward with confidence\n     when I will come into the full enjoyment of that inheritance\n     which is \"incorruptible, undefiled and fadeth not away.\" Have\n     been here over thirteen years; converted twelve years and nine\n     months ago, and have been trying to do something for my Master\n     ever since, and I feel glad that He has wonderfully blessed and\n     kept me in His love. Pray for us that God will save the fallen.\n\n               Yours in Christian love,\n                                                         W. S. D.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                     Oregon State Penitentiary.\n\n                                      Salem, Ore., April 3, 1892.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     Your kind letter was handed to me by our Superintendent to-day,\n     and we were more than pleased to hear from you. May our Father in\n     Heaven protect and keep you for many years to come in the faithful\n     work of rescuing the souls of men who are so far astray that each\n     one saved seems like a miracle. Many a prayer has gone up from the\n     solitudes of our prison cells for Mother Wheaton's health and\n     success, and many of us in conversation have oft repeated, \"God\n     bless Mother Wheaton!\" But we have not lost sight of Jesus, always\n     our Friend. We have services every Sunday. Mother Smith (God bless\n     her!) comes once a month, and each Sunday our pulpit is occupied\n     by some minister from the city. Then some night during the week\n     our choir has rehearsal; so you see, we have plenty of opportunity\n     to worship and listen to the divine Word, and in consequence we\n     are very grateful to our kind officials, who earnestly look out\n     for our spiritual welfare, especially Mr. Downing, our good\n     Christian Superintendent, who would not rest easy if he thought\n     one of us was in want of anything that he could obtain for us that\n     would be for our good. We often think of the difference between\n     some other prisons and ours. \"Oh, Father in Heaven, not as we\n     will, but as Thou wilt, but spread a little divine love in those\n     quarters where it is so much needed\"--that is often our prayer.\n\n     God bless you and protect you in your noble work, and may the\n     jewels in your crown be many, are the prayers of many of the\n     inmates of this institution, and when you come again many an\n     honest hand will unite with yours in our expression of love and\n     faithfulness for Him who died on Calvary, not in the arms of a\n     loving mother, but between two such men as many of us have been;\n     yet one of them dwells with Him in Paradise, which proves to a\n     certainty that He saves to the uttermost. God bless you again.\n     Write us often, and when you reach those pearly gates there will\n     be those to meet you who will say, \"You showed me the way.\"\n\n                     Yours in Christ.\n\n                                               WM. AND YOUR BOYS.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Lancaster, Neb., Aug. 20, 1892.\n\n     Dear Sister in the Lord:\n\n     Yours of the 5th at hand. I always rejoice to hear from you, or\n     to hear you speak, for your words are words of comfort, and are\n     after the doctrine of our Lord and Master and according to the\n     Scripture. It is a great comfort to me to hear or speak with\n     those that live in Christ Jesus. No I have no thought of turning\n     back to the poor and weak elements of this world. By the help of\n     the Lord I will press on to the ends that I may claim all the\n     promises, and I want to be found faithful in all good works, and\n     in doing good to those that have need. The promise you spoke of\n     can be found in Revelation, 14:12. You ask if I will seek to be\n     such. Yes, with all my heart. God, that knows all our hearts,\n     knows that my desire is to live and work for His sake and for His\n     glory. As for me, I am not worthy to be called His child, but\n     only a servant, because I have wasted my life in sin when I ought\n     to have served my God and Lord. But four years ago the Lord drew\n     me unto Him. I repented of my ways, gave my heart and soul to God\n     the Father, and Jesus our Lord. I received forgiveness of my\n     sins, and not many days after I received the promise of my Lord.\n     That was the promise of the Comforter, which came to me--even me.\n     And now shall I turn back? No, God helping me, I will endure all\n     things; for He is able to keep me in the hour of temptation. And\n     oh! His promises are so true to them that put their trust in Him.\n     In Isaiah, 41st chapter and 10th verse, and again in 1st Kings,\n     19th chapter, 7th verse, we are told the journey is too great for\n     us without God's help. But if we accept the help we shall be\n     faithful to the end. And here is another promise that He will\n     help in time of need: \"Lo! I am with you always, even unto the\n     end of the world.\" (Matt. 28:20.)\n\n     He has promised to reward us according to our works. (Rev.\n     22:12.) I have done nothing worthy of reward. But you have\n     labored and have kept the faith, and God will reward you for all\n     your trials and tribulations, and give you a crown that will\n     never fade. Yes, God helping me, I will meet you in Heaven, where\n     there is no more sorrow and no more weeping, but joy in our\n     Saviour. May God bless you. May He give you health and strength\n     to the end, is my prayer. Pray for me, for the prayer of the\n     righteous availeth much.\n\n                          Yours in Jesus,\n                                                            P. B.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Ionia, Mich., October 21, 1894.\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Madam: I write to thank you for those pamphlets you sent me,\n     and I think I can say they did me good. At any rate, I am trying\n     to faithfully follow their suggestions. I practically devour any\n     of that kind of reading, for, thank God, I do hunger and thirst\n     after instruction in His word--I should like to have said\n     righteousness, but I don't--there! I cannot finish what I was\n     going to say, for a blessed thought has just come to me--that is,\n     Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him for\n     righteousness. I not only believe God, but Jesus Christ also. So\n     I believe I may say I hunger and thirst after righteousness.\n     Anyhow, I pray every day to get nearer to God. You will be glad\n     to hear that I have decided to leave all and follow Him. I have\n     consecrated my life to His service. When I get out, wherever I\n     feel that He calls me, I shall go there, if it is to China. I am\n     praying for sanctification. I want to get so close to God as to\n     always be able to feel His presence. This is just two weeks since\n     you were here, and I started to serve God. Praise the Lord, I\n     think I am justified in saying that I am a new lad.\n\n     I have given up tobacco and don't feel the need of it any more\n     than if I had never tasted it. I have given up profanity just as\n     easily. Now I want to read the Bible every day. Since you were\n     here I have read Corinthians I and II, Revelations, Proverbs,\n     Ecclesiastes, Ruth, and am now reading the Acts of the Apostles.\n     Before you came I had thought a little of being a Christian, but\n     had not taken any steps towards it, but you decided me, and I\n     thank you for it.\n\n     I must close now or my paper will give out. Pray for me that I\n     may receive sanctification and have the indwelling of the Holy\n     Ghost. God bless you.\n\n     I remain, yours sincerely and respectfully,\n                                                         M. J. B.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                   Lancaster, Neb., Feb. 3, 1895.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton.\n\n     My Dear Sister in Christ: Yours was received with welcome and\n     thanksgiving to our Lord that comforts us through His Holy\n     Spirit. Yes, God has given me grace to overcome many temptations.\n     He is my whole trust and confidence, and I know He hears my\n     prayers, and He will open a door for you here. There are some\n     hungry souls here for the truth. I believe if you had been\n     permitted to have service, some would have been saved. About the\n     first of December there were some seeking quite sincerely. My\n     desire is that I might be found faithful to the end, and I ask\n     your prayers for me to Him who is able to save to the uttermost.\n     I am so glad you had the Spirit of God in your service in\n     Lincoln December 25. We had the follies of this world without\n     the Spirit of God. But the world knows its own and they please\n     not our Lord. And because we are not of the world, the world\n     hates us, and that without a cause. I have been praying for you\n     that God will give you the victory in all things. And now may the\n     peace and grace of God our Lord be with all His saints and them\n     that truly love Him.\n\n                         From your brother in Jesus,\n                                                         P. B. B.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Cole City, Ga., April 26, 1896.\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Mother: I take the pleasure of writing you a few lines.\n\n     I do hope that I can meet you and tell you the good you have done\n     me. God is the one and the only one I look to. I want to go to\n     Heaven and believe I will. I believe some day, if we do not meet\n     on earth again, that we will meet in Heaven.\n\n       Poor and needy though I be,\n       God, my maker, cares for me;\n       Gives me clothing, shelter, food;\n       He will hear me when I pray.\n       He is with me night and day,\n       When I sleep and when I wake.\n       Keeps me safe for Jesus' sake,\n       He who reigns above the sky,\n       Once became as poor as I.\n\n       He whose blood for me was shed,\n       Had not where to lay His head.\n       Though I labor here awhile,\n       He will bless me with His smile.\n       And when this short life is past,\n       I shall rest with Him at last.\n\n     I hope and pray that you will have power and strength to obey the\n     Master's will.\n\n                                Good-bye,\n                                                          P. McM.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Boise City, Idaho, May 11, 1896.\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton.\n\n     My Dear Mother in Christ: I hope you are well and enjoying the\n     love of the Lord. It is a great thing to be in a position to work\n     for the Lord Jesus. We are having good services now every Sunday,\n     and we have a good Bible class of our own. The Lord has\n     wonderfully blessed this place, and I hope to see many souls\n     saved. Praise God! All the boys send love and wish to see you,\n     and we all wish you success. God bless you in your good work.\n\n                                                            W. B.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Waupun, Wis., Feb. 26, 1897.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton and Mrs. Kelly,\n\n     Dear Friends: Enclosed please find P. O. order for $6.66, which\n     is sent you with the best wishes of the inmates of this\n     institution, as a slight token of the appreciation which we have\n     of your efforts toward the uplifting of fallen beings like\n     ourselves, and the upbuilding of Christ's Kingdom.\n\n     Although most of the contributions came from the C. E. members,\n     yet they were not confined strictly to them.\n\n     It was a surprise to me, when in conversation with many of the\n     boys, during our short time of liberty on Washington's Birthday,\n     to find among them such a general feeling of friendliness and\n     respect toward you, even from those who usually scoff at\n     everything religious, and who are thoroughly hardened in sin and\n     crime.\n\n     I am sure it will be gratifying to you to know that God so\n     blesses your efforts that even the most hardened ones can feel\n     the influence of His Holy Spirit in your ministrations.\n\n     Rest assured that we shall always hold you in kindly\n     remembrance, and shall never cease to pray that God's richest\n     blessing may crown your efforts.\n\n     While our contribution is very small, we know that you will\n     receive it remembering only the motive which prompts its\n     bestowal, which is the only method by which the value of a gift\n     can be determined.\n\n     With renewed expression of our wishes and prayers for your\n     success, we are,\n\n                                 Yours for Christ,\n                                  WAUPUN PRISON C. E. SOCIETY.\n                                              A. I. W., COR. SEC.\n\n     P. S.--The enclosed order is sent in the chaplain's name, W. G.\n     Bancroft.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                  Eddyville, Ky., April 18, 1897.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton.\n\n     My Dear Christian Friend: It is with pleasure that I write you\n     these few lines to let you know that your visit to Eddyville was\n     not in vain. Many of my brothers here express their appreciation\n     of your visit. We have some earnest workers for the salvation of\n     men in this prison. We are praying for you that God will\n     strengthen you for His work. We hope to see you again soon, and\n     receive a message from Jesus, for we receive you as His\n     messenger.\n\n     All my brothers send their thanks to you, for they say you seem\n     like a mother to them. Some of us have not seen our mothers for\n     thirteen or fourteen years, and only live in hope of seeing them\n     in heaven, when we can lay down these stripes and greet them\n     there.\n\n     O my dear Christian friend, when I think of a wasted life and how\n     easy a poor frail being like myself is led off, it almost crushes\n     my heart, but thank God that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth\n     from all sin, and that is my only hope. I want to meet you in\n     heaven and, by the grace of God, I'll be there. We will not be in\n     prison always. Jesus will come to claim his children soon. Those\n     who oppress us now will all have to stand before that just Judge\n     and give an account of what they have done to crush the hearts of\n     their fellowmen. May God forgive them, is my prayer, for they\n     know not what they do.\n\n     I hope to hear from you soon. May God bless you in His service.\n\n                    Your friend in Christ,\n                                                            L. P.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Laramie, Wyo., May 31, 1897.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     I got your letter some time ago and also the papers. Was real\n     glad to get them and to hear from you. I also get the paper\n     regularly, and when we are through reading it I send it to a\n     little boy in Montana that I used to know. We still continue our\n     Bible class and have several new members. We have changed the\n     time from Thursday until Sunday, on account of some of the boys\n     who work on the farm.\n\n     I got a good letter from a friend in Kansas not long ago. He\n     tells me that my wife and little girls have joined the Christian\n     Church. The happiest days of my life were spent with them, and if\n     there is one of us four who has to be lost I hope it may be me. I\n     want your prayers for our Bible class and that God will make me a\n     better man; and especially for my wife and children I want your\n     prayers. It will be four years to-morrow since I have seen them.\n\n     Some of the boys often speak of you, and I can assure you of a\n     welcome by us if you ever come this way again. May God bless you\n     and sustain you in this world for many years to come, is my\n     prayer. The text of the sermon we heard to-day was John 3:16.\n\n                                                         W. J. T.\n\n     Luke 15:15.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                      Waupun, Wis., July 4, 1897.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton.\n\n     Madam: The privilege of writing is accorded me by the rules of\n     this institution, and as I have no friends to whom I write, I\n     will address this letter to you. I have not taken any great\n     interest in your work, but have heard you speak before you\n     visited this place last February, and under similar\n     circumstances.\n\n     All are doing nicely here and are looking forward to the treat we\n     shall get to-morrow by being allowed the liberty of the yard, as\n     we celebrate the Fourth then.\n\n     The Christian Endeavor Society is getting along nicely, I guess,\n     though I have not been present at their last two or three\n     meetings, but some of the boys seem to take considerable interest\n     in the work.\n\n     The front yard is very pretty. All the flowers are in bloom and\n     nature seems to bless the convicts as well as those whose conduct\n     permits them to remain out in a cruel world.\n\n     Flower Mission Day was observed here June 20th. Some ladies of\n     the W. C. T. U. distributed some flowers and spoke in the chapel.\n     Told us of the sufferings of Jennie Cassidy of Kentucky, the\n     originator of Flower Mission Day, invoked a divine blessing on\n     us, and sent us to our cells, feeling that our lot was not so bad\n     as others have had to endure.\n\n     The prison is about the same, six hundred males and ten or twelve\n     females; some changes in the discipline; the lock-step is\n     dispensed with; we are allowed two books a week from the library,\n     and other changes which lighten our burden.\n\n     Believing you will pardon this liberty I have taken, I am,\n\n                         Most respectfully,\n\n                                                        No. 6965.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Laramie, Wyoming, May, 1898.\n\n     Dear Mother:\n\n     Mr. ---- requests me to answer your kind and most welcome letter.\n     I was thinking of you this morning, and of your mission on earth,\n     and how you had spent your life in the service of the Lord, and\n     in trying to benefit others. We regard you as the Good Samaritan,\n     and pray that the Lord will bless you in your work wherever you\n     may go. The members of the Bible class unite in sending you their\n     love and best regards, and will be delighted to have you visit us\n     again. According to nature, your earthly mission will soon come\n     to a close, but your acts of kindness and deeds of mercy will\n     live on forever. Remember us in your prayers. It is written that\n     the prayers of the righteous avail much. Our class has increased\n     considerably since you were here. Some of the boys seem to be\n     very much in earnest and sincerely repent of their past conduct.\n     I hope to live the remainder of my life in the service of the\n     Lord, and I hope to meet you in a brighter and a better world,\n     where parting and sorrow are no more; where our tears are all\n     wiped away, and the light of the Lord shines forever.\n\n                       Sincerely yours,\n                                                       F. P. 309.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Eddyville Prison, March 17, 1900.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton, Prison Evangelist:\n\n     Though it has been one year the 5th of February past since I\n     heard your kind, sweet, motherly voice, how glad and proud I am\n     to see you once again and hear your kind voice, full of a\n     mother's pity for her children. May God bless you, mother, in\n     your journey from prison to prison to teach fallen men that there\n     is a Jesus who loves them and will forgive their sins if they\n     only believe on Him. Thank God for His Son He sent into the world\n     to save sinners, for Jesus has pardoned all my sins, and I mean\n     to serve God for the remainder of my life.\n\n     You are welcome--thrice welcome. If you did not love us you would\n     not come to visit us each year so faithfully. May God bless and\n     go with you wherever you may be or go.\n\n     Though I have only about three weeks to serve here yet, I thank\n     God I will leave a saved boy through the blood of Jesus. Bless\n     His holy name!\n\n     I highly appreciate your kind words and the advice you gave me. I\n     will take your advice.\n\n     I will close by saying, \"May God watch between me and thee.\"\n     Amen. My motto through life is, \"In God I trust.\"\n\n     I remain,\n\n                        Your son in Jesus,\n                                                    F. P. K., Jr.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     Yuma, Arizona, May 25, 1903.\n\n     Dear Sister Wheaton:\n\n     Our kind Superintendent handed me your letter of the 22d inst.,\n     also the tracts you sent, which I distributed to those who I knew\n     would read and appreciate them. I also showed your letter to\n     several, and intended reading it, or having it read, during\n     church yesterday morning, but our minister was late, so I thought\n     best to wait till next Sunday. During the week I will pass it\n     around to as many as I can. All to whom I showed the letter\n     seemed glad to hear from you, and requested me to ask you to\n     remember them in your prayers, and said to tell you they hoped\n     you would be able to visit the prison again soon.\n\n     I am sorry I haven't a more favorable report of Christian\n     progress in the prison; but Satan seems to hold the upper hand,\n     and there has been no conversion for some time, and there has\n     been quite a number of Christian boys sent out, and a great many\n     new men came in of late, which may account for the small\n     attendance at services.\n\n     I hope the Lord will open the way for some good revivalist to\n     come to Yuma and stay for a while at least. This place needs a\n     real stirring up.\n\n     I hope that the Lord will continue to bless you in your work for\n     Him among fallen men and women, and that you may lead many to\n     live better lives and be prepared for heaven.\n\n                                     Your brother in Christ,\n                                                            R. C.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                 Frankfort, Ky., October 8, 1903.\n\n     Elizabeth R. Wheaton, Prison Evangelist.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton: It is a matter of the deepest regret that I\n     am in prison, but I am very proud to have you call me one of your\n     boys.\n\n     My dear mother was named Elizabeth. I was her pride and joy, but\n     rejoice to think that my fall did not occur until after her\n     death.\n\n     It would please my sweet wife if you could write her a letter of\n     encouragement and good cheer.\n\n     I hope that your latter years may be many, and am certain they\n     will be filled with the joy and blessedness which come to those\n     who are serving the Master in such a noble work as yours.\n\n                      Most respectfully yours,\n                                                         H. E. Y.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Illustration: DRUG DEPARTMENT IN PRISON HOSPITAL.]\n\n                          Frankfort, Kentucky, November 15, 1903.\n\n     Mrs. Elizabeth Wheaton, Tabor, Iowa.\n\n     My Dear Mother Wheaton: Your visit to those who were confined to\n     their beds in our prison hospital October 6th was a great\n     blessing to them. Your gospel hymns gave them visions of angels\n     singing the praises of their Master, and your prayers carried\n     them before the great white throne for mercy and pardon.\n\n     Prisoners need Christianity more than any other class of men, and\n     when they get the love of God in their hearts they immediately\n     become better prisoners, are more contented, and have more hope\n     for this life and the life to come.\n\n     Surely your work is a noble one, and each song and prayer for\n     prisoners makes your heavenly reward more glorious.\n\n     With many thanks for the kind words spoken to me, I remain,\n\n                       Most respectfully,\n                                                         H. E. Y.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                              Jefferson City, Mo., Sept. 2, 1904.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, Tabor, Iowa.\n\n     Dear Mother in Jesus: I thought I would address you in behalf of\n     a Christian friend by the name of J., as he is sick. He requested\n     me to write to you, and as I would like to hear from a Christian\n     from the outside world, he said you would answer my letter. I am\n     trying to live a Christian life. When I was almost ready to give\n     up and go back to my sinful life, there was a bright light came\n     in my pathway to refresh my soul and to point out the dark places\n     wherein I stood. And this light was Brother J. When he talks to\n     any one it is in a loving way, and to talk to him five minutes\n     one can tell that he is one of God's true children. I enjoy\n     greatly to hear him talk of Jesus' love, for it does my soul\n     good. Have you any Christian papers and tracts that you would\n     please send to me? I would enjoy reading them greatly.\n\n     I am your boy, saved in Christ Jesus.\n\n                                                       Geo. W. R.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Huntsville, Texas, Feb. 17, 1905.\n\n     Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     Yours to our chaplain, Dr. M., has just been handed to me, and it\n     affords me great pleasure to write you, for I often think of you,\n     and the good lady that was here with you, and I knew it would be\n     gratifying to you to know how sincerely the boys appreciate your\n     words of kindness and Christian advice for their spiritual\n     welfare. I have heard many of them speak of you, and it was\n     always with heartfelt wishes for your success and happiness. I\n     trust and pray that many lost souls will be brought to Christ\n     through your noble work in the meeting you mention.\n\n     Through reading the Christian Herald I have been much impressed\n     with the need of missionary work in India. And I pray that Miss\n     Grace, who was with you here, will be abundantly blessed in her\n     undertaking. I assure you that we will all be glad to see you at\n     any time. God's richest blessings upon you. I beg to remain,\n\n     Yours in Christ,\n\n                                                         W. H. S.\n\n\n\n\n                            CHAPTER XXIII.\n\n                       Kind Words from Friends.\n\n\nWe give here a few letters from dear friends who have been especially\ninterested in the Master's work, some of whom have given me many words\nof encouragement, or otherwise been helpful to me in advancing the\nwork of the gospel.\n\n\n                     FROM H. L. HASTINGS AND WIFE.\n\n              47 Cornhill Place, Boston, Mass., January 27, 1886.\n\n     Blessed Sister:\n\n     Your card came duly. Glad to hear. Sorry you could not call. Mrs.\n     Hastings wanted to see you. Come to our house when you will. If\n     you go to New York, call on Miss Annie Delaney, Fruit and Bible\n     Mission, 416 E. 26th St., New York, opposite the Bellevue\n     Hospital--right in the middle of prisons and prisoners. Tell them\n     I sent you. Miss D. is superintendent and has lived with us and\n     can open doors there.\n\n     I was at State Prison one night. Heard many good testimonies from\n     your friends there. Surely, your labors have been blessed. May\n     the Lord direct your way in all these things, and guide your\n     endeavors. How much you need the Heavenly Father's guidance. He\n     will guide you with His eye. Pray that you may know and do His\n     will, and pray for us that we may please Him in all things. Do\n     you need some tracts or papers? Let us know.\n\n                                Yours in the work,\n\n                                                  H. L. HASTINGS.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                    Goshen, Mass., March 9, 1900.\n\n     My Dear Sister:\n\n     I am very glad indeed to hear from you, and to know that you are\n     still alive and still at work.\n\n     It was a great shock to me when Mr. Hastings left us. But the\n     Lord has been very good to me, and I feel that He means what He\n     says: \"E'en down to old age I will never leave thee.\" \"I'll\n     never, no, never, no, never forsake.\" This is a beautiful and a\n     comforting thought to me at this time.\n\n     May God bless you, my sister, and keep you in health to do His\n     work, is the prayer of\n\n                                  Your friend,\n                                             MRS. H. L. HASTINGS.\n\n                                                      (Per E. B.)\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                    E. E. BYRUM, AUTHOR AND EDITOR.\n\n                                              September 11, 1903.\n\n     During the past few years I have been acquainted with Mrs.\n     Elizabeth R. Wheaton, and known of her earnestness and zeal in\n     behalf of the unfortunate prisoners of our land. For many years\n     her time has been almost wholly given to the work of relieving\n     the distressed and discouraged in their cells, and in prison\n     chapels.\n\n     Her songs and words of encouragement, mingled with tears, have\n     caused the feelings of depression and sadness to flee away, and\n     those bowed down with sorrow to grasp a ray of hope and look\n     forward with renewed energy to a higher life, trusting in Him who\n     is able to keep. Many years of continued evangelistic work in the\n     penitentiaries and prisons of America have given her a wide range\n     of experiences of prison life, a description of which cannot fail\n     to be of intense interest to every reader. It was partially due\n     to her untiring zeal that I was moved to write the book entitled\n     \"Behind the Prison Bars.\" Her written words will continue to warn\n     and comfort after her departure from this world to her home\n     beyond the cares of life.\n\n                                                     E. E. BYRUM.\n\n     Moundsville, W. Va.\n\n\n                       FROM MOTHER OF PRISONER.\n\n                                          Chicago, March 4, 1900.\n\n     Dear Friend:\n\n     I was greatly surprised and glad to hear from you, for my son has\n     often spoken of you and has regretted that the quarantine has\n     kept you away. I feel very grateful to you for taking an interest\n     in my dear boy, for he is still very dear to me.\n\n     You cannot imagine my feelings all these years, knowing he was\n     behind gloomy walls. My health has given way two or three times\n     on account of it. Like so many others, he thought he knew best,\n     and left a good home to go roving. The cause of his downfall is\n     due to bad company, but then, his time is up in October. I hope\n     to see him once more and keep him with me, for I am growing\n     old--am nearly sixty-two.\n\n     I shall be very glad to welcome you to our home.\n\n     If you should see my dear boy before you come to Chicago, tell\n     him I am waiting patiently until I see him.\n\n     This letter hardly expresses my feelings, but, sleeping or\n     waking, my thoughts are nearly always with my absent boy. Once\n     more accept thanks from a broken-hearted mother.\n\n                                                    Mrs. M. E. F.\n\n\n                      FROM A PRISONER'S DAUGHTER.\n\n                                     Denver, Colo., Jan. 7, 1903.\n\n     My Dear Mother Wheaton:\n\n     Praise God for salvation this afternoon! I am glad I found your\n     address, for I have wanted to write to you for a long time and\n     tell you the result of your visit to R. State Prison, where you\n     talked with my precious father.\n\n     He wrote me soon after you left and said you left him under awful\n     conviction. He confessed and forsook his sins and is now a man\n     saved by the blood that was shed on the cross for him. He said\n     that he was restless from the time you left until he found Jesus.\n     He told how you and a young lady talked and prayed with him, and\n     how, after he retired, he rolled and tossed in awful agony until\n     about eleven o'clock, when he cried to God for mercy. God heard\n     his cries and came to his release. O hallelujah! It just makes me\n     shout to read his letters now. I can tell by them that he is\n     really resting in Jesus. He before seldom wrote more than two\n     pages, and now he writes from fifteen to twenty-four. And oh,\n     such letters! I just can't help but cry for joy when I read them\n     and realize that my precious papa is serving the only true and\n     living God. I give God the glory and all of the honor for what\n     has been done; and I praise God for using you as an instrument\n     through whom He worked. Eternity alone can reveal the result.\n\n     My heart is full of praises to Jesus my King this evening. He has\n     done so much for me lately. He blesses me in soul and body and\n     supplies all my needs.\n\n     I may go to C. soon and try to do something for my father. Pray\n     that God may lead me and that the devil may not hinder in any\n     way, if God sees fit to release papa from prison. I am perfectly\n     resigned to God's will.\n\n         Your sister for Jesus,\n                                                            M. H.\n\n     (This daughter was a successful Christian worker.)\n\n\n                            FROM AN EDITOR.\n\n                                      Ashburn, Ga., May 12, 1897.\n\n     Dear Sister:\n\n     Grace and peace be multiplied to you. I received your letter and\n     communication for \"Holiness Advocate,\" which will appear in the\n     next issue. Always let me know where to find you. I would have\n     written sooner, but have been away to Macon, where I saw Sister\n     Perry. She has been here and visited the convict camps since you\n     were here. I have been visiting those camps pretty regularly\n     since you left here. You put it on me and I am trying to be\n     faithful. You asked me in your letter if you knew me. Yes, I met\n     you here. It was in front of my store. You held the street\n     service here at Ashburn, while waiting for the train, and I was\n     with you until the train left. Well, sister, I will never get\n     done praising God for ever meeting you. It marked a new epoch in\n     my experience. I want you to take my paper on your heart. Ask the\n     Holy Spirit to run it for me and the Father to supply financial\n     help. I am trusting Him for it. How glad the prisoners in the\n     camp will be to hear from you in this way. I will send up to both\n     the camps a bundle of the issue containing your letter. I want\n     you all to pray for the South, that a deeper work may be done in\n     the hearts of the Holiness people; that the missionary spirit may\n     get hold of us so that we will send out our sons and daughters to\n     tell of Jesus' love to a perishing, dying world.\n\n     May the Lord bless you and use you in the future even more\n     powerfully than in the past. Come and see us when you can.\n\n                       Yours, bound for Heaven,\n                                                     J. LAWRENCE,\n                                           Ed. Holiness Advocate.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                   Ashburn, Ga., August 25, 1898.\n\n     Dear Sister Wheaton:\n\n     Your letter came to us all right, and you have no idea what\n     gladness it brings to us all to hear from you, and yet\n     conviction. For it certainly convicts us for the little we are\n     doing when we see how the Lord is enabling you to put in full\n     time. Pray for me that I may be more zealous. Things are taking a\n     deeper move in the South. A great number of the Holiness people\n     are getting down for a real experience. We have been satisfied\n     long enough with a profession. So you may expect something from\n     the South in the near future. Men and women giving themselves for\n     the foreign field and for the home field, working in the slums\n     and in the prisons and wherever God may lead them. Love to all\n     the saints at Tabor. I have never met any of them, but I do love\n     them and the work they are doing. \"Blessed be the tie that\n     binds.\"\n\n     God bless you, and may you be preserved blameless unto His\n     coming.\n\n                           Yours in Jesus' love,\n                                                     J. LAWRENCE.\n\n\n                          FROM AN EX-PRISONER.\n\n                                  Sioux City, Ia., Jan. 31, 1901.\n\n     Mrs. Wheaton: I don't suppose you will remember me, but possibly\n     you may, as I think I was one of the most wretched in or out of\n     prison at that time. It was at Sioux Falls, So. Dak., between\n     three and four years ago, if I remember correctly. You visited\n     the prison and spoke to us in chapel, and later in the day you\n     and a lady with you, came around to the cells. I was in cell No.\n     13. You shook hands with me and asked, \"Are you a Christian?\" I\n     replied, \"No.\" Again you asked, \"Have you ever been one?\" \"No.\"\n     \"Will you meet me in Heaven?\" you asked again, and I answered, \"I\n     will try to.\" You spoke only a few words, saying, \"Do not be\n     discouraged.\" These few words and that warm hand-shake helped me\n     very much. I was indeed much discouraged. Life seemed dark\n     indeed. I was serving an eleven years' sentence. I was under deep\n     conviction of sin. Not long after that the blessed Christ came\n     into my heart. I believed on His name and He saved my soul. Two\n     years ago last August I was pardoned from the prison. The 17th of\n     last March I became Superintendent of a Rescue Mission in Dakota,\n     and for ten months or nearly that I was there and the Lord\n     blessed our efforts by saving souls. I am now married. My wife\n     was converted in the mission last June. She is an accomplished\n     musician and singer and, the Lord being willing, we expect to go\n     out and preach the gospel among railroad men in the near future.\n\n     I have often thought of you and your labor of love among\n     prisoners. May God bless and encourage you in the work, is my\n     earnest prayer. I heard that you were in Sioux Falls at the\n     prison a short time ago. I did not know it in time to see you. If\n     the prisoners only knew what joy and peace there is in the\n     service of Jesus, it seems to me they would yield their hearts to\n     Him. Again I wish you godspeed in your work. May you have many\n     precious jewels for the Master's crown. To Him belong the praise\n     and glory.\n\n     Good-bye, and God bless you and the sister that was with you.\n     Never be discouraged. Jesus loves and uses you.\n\n                      Yours, in His service,\n                                                         T. F. M.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                              Sioux Falls, S. Dak., Feb. 9, 1904.\n\n     Mrs. E. R. Wheaton.\n\n     Dear Sister: Your card of November was received. Hope you will\n     pardon me for not writing before. I am glad that you are still\n     trusting Jesus, and working in His vineyard. May God bless,\n     comfort, strengthen and keep you.\n\n     Jesus is coming again, perhaps soon. It may be that we shall be\n     alive when He comes. If so we shall be caught up together with\n     the dead in Christ to meet Him in the air, so shall we ever be\n     with Him. Blessed be His name. (I Thess. 4-17.) I want to exalt\n     Him. I want my daily life to be a testimony of His power to save\n     and to keep. Many years of my life were spent in sin. Finally I\n     was tried, convicted and sentenced to state's prison for a long\n     term of years. God says: \"Whatsoever a man soweth that shall he\n     also reap, for He that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh\n     reap corruption, but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the\n     Spirit reap life everlasting.\" (Galatians 6:7, 8.) God's word is\n     true.\n\n     I found my mind giving away and my body a physical wreck. I read\n     the Bible and God showed me that I was a lost man. I tried to\n     destroy my life, but God in his love and mercy would not permit\n     it. I was in great darkness. I said to a friend, there is no hope\n     for me in this life or the life to come, but I did not know Jesus\n     Christ nor His saving power. God sent His ministers each Sunday\n     morning to preach the blessed gospel, and one Sunday morning He\n     sent \"Mother Wheaton\" to us. In the afternoon, I believe it was,\n     she visited us in our cells. I had quarreled with my cell-mate,\n     and he had left me. Mrs. Wheaton came and shook hands with me,\n     and asked if I was a Christian. I said, \"No.\" Again she asked,\n     \"Have you ever been a Christian?\" I replied, \"No.\" She said,\n     \"Will you meet me in Heaven?\" I said, \"I will try.\" With a warm\n     hand-shake and a few words of encouragement, she left me. God\n     helped me to believe in Jesus Christ, and there came into my life\n     joy and peace such as I had never known before, even in my best\n     days on the outside.\n\n     After my conversion I asked God if it was His will that I might\n     be pardoned out. He also heard and answered that prayer. God is\n     love. He loves the vilest sinner. To-day I have a loving\n     Christian wife and two lovely children. I have no desire for the\n     old life of drinking, gambling, etc., but my desire is to love\n     and serve God and help my fellowmen to find Jesus, who is mighty\n     to save and to keep. To Jesus belongs all praise and glory. If it\n     is his will, may He use this testimony to bring souls to Himself.\n\n                                                         T. F. M.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                          4064 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, Mo.,\n                                                October 25, 1899.\n\n     My Dear Mrs. Wheaton:\n\n     I thank you so much for your letter. I was greatly pleased in\n     reading it. I will be so glad to see you when you come. I\n     realize, as you say, that I have never fully let go of myself in\n     the Master's work, but I have given my life to Him, and if I know\n     my own heart, I am willing to be and do anything He shall choose\n     for me. I love to help lost ones, and if the Lord should use me\n     as He does you, I believe I should be the happiest person in the\n     world. Do pray for me, won't you, that the Lord may lead me into\n     all His will? Time is flying, and soon all of our opportunities\n     will be over and our Lord will take us to Himself. Pray that the\n     Lord will keep me busy serving Him. I love you and pray for you.\n     May you be kept rejoicing in hope even though you see nothing but\n     sin and sorrow around you. (Psalm 125:5, 6.)\n\n                            Lovingly yours,\n                                                     TULA D. ELY.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Sapphire, N. C., August 15, 1901.\n\n     My Dear Sister:\n\n     I received your letter to-day. I have been thinking about you and\n     praying for you often, and see by your letter that God has made\n     all of your trials a blessing to you and know that God can make\n     up for any loss He lets us have. What a hard time you did have,\n     dear sister. I praise God for bringing you through it with such\n     joy. Sometimes it seems true He does with us like He did with\n     Job--just tells Satan he may do everything but take our lives,\n     and when our self-justification and friends are gone, He joins us\n     in with Himself and makes us powerful in His own power. He knows\n     whether we want Him, and if we do we will be taken through death\n     to self and put to hard tests. It seems sometimes as if He hides\n     His face to let us suffer and say, \"Though He slay me yet will I\n     trust Him.\" I am glad you are with the people who hold you up in\n     prayer. We need one another's prayers in these times when Satan\n     has so many snares. Tula is well. She and Mildred send love.\n\n               Affectionately and in Jesus, love,\n                                                    CLARA D. ELY.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                     S----, Colo., June 24, 1903.\n\n     Dear Mother in Christ:\n\n     May this find you well and happy in the Lord Jesus. We have not\n     forgotten you and we never shall. Our gospel tent meeting at P.\n     was a blessed time. Souls were saved and sanctified. We give all\n     the glory to Jesus. We are holding meetings here in our tent. The\n     Lord is blessing the preaching of His Word. The Lord willing, we\n     will begin a meeting at Raton, New Mexico, the 2nd of August. We\n     would like to have you with us if it were the Lord's will. The\n     Lord is helping us while we are here to open a home for poor\n     girls. We have rented a five-room house and He is giving us\n     everything we need for the home. Glory to God for all things!\n\n     My brother H. is with us in the gospel work. God is blessing him\n     in singing the gospel. Remember us all in prayer. May the Lord\n     give you many souls in your work. We both send love to you.\n\n                            Your children,\n                                                  J. E. AND WIFE.\n\nThe above is of especial interest to me though the reader may have to\nread between the lines, as it were, to understand why it is so. The\nwriters are faithful and efficient workers in the Master's cause.\n\n\n                            A TESTIMONIAL.\n\n                                        Columbia, South Carolina.\n\n     To Christian Women:\n\n     Dear Sisters: We have long known the bearer, Mrs. E. R. Wheaton,\n     and can testify as to her arduous labors for the most needy\n     classes. It was our privilege to have her in our Home for one\n     week and we certainly received the Lord's blessing during that\n     time. We are working for Christ, but her labors are more\n     abundant, her trials far greater. As she goes forth without\n     commission or salary she must depend entirely upon God. He\n     usually supplies her through His people. Few of us could work\n     where and as she does, but we may lovingly minister to her\n     necessity and the dear Lord will surely bless in so doing. Yours\n     in Christ,\n\n                                                MARIA JONES,\n                                                ELLA F. BRAINARD.\n\nThe writer of the following sketch was an orphan girl making her home,\nwhen I first met her, with some of my relatives in Iowa. She was\nraised by her aunt and was kept in school and in society till she was\ngrown. Having been converted at the age of twelve years and engaging\nsome in Christian work, soon after my first acquaintance with her she\nreceived a call from God to devote her life wholly to His service.\nBeing an orphan the Lord gave me a mother's love and care for her. She\nwent with me to the Missionary Training Home at Tabor, from whence she\nwent as a missionary to India. While at the Home she was faithful in\ncaring for orphan children, etc., and traveled with me some, staying\nat one time several months as a worker in a rescue home in Chicago,\nand later spending some time in evangelistic work. I have elsewhere\nmentioned her trip with me to the Pacific coast on her way to India.\n\n     It was my privilege in the fall of 1903 to travel with Mother\n     Wheaton in Gospel work in prisons, jails, missions, churches,\n     etc. God made her a blessing to many souls who needed a mother's\n     love and sympathy. She always lifts up Jesus, that souls might be\n     drawn unto Him and be saved. We first visited the Reformatory for\n     Girls at Mitchelville, Iowa. We were kindly received by the\n     Superintendent who had been a friend of Mother Wheaton's for\n     several years. He gave her the privilege of holding services in\n     the chapel with the several hundred girls. She also visited the\n     girls in their cottages, singing, praying and talking with them.\n\n     We then visited the prisons at the following places: Moundsville,\n     W. Va.; Baltimore, Md.; Allegheny, Pa.; Columbus, Ohio; Waupun,\n     Wis.; Stillwater, Minn.; Frankfort, Ky.; Nashville and Brushy\n     Mountain, Tenn.\n\n     In the hospital of the prison at Waupun we visited Mr. Colgrove,\n     a prisoner who was converted fifteen years previously when Mother\n     Wheaton was holding a service in the prison. He was a life\n     prisoner but he yielded to the conviction of the Holy Spirit and\n     was saved. During these years he proved by his daily walk that he\n     was a Christian. He often conducted the devotional exercises, and\n     he had taught three Bible classes, two in German and one in\n     English, until his health failed. As I bade him goodbye he said,\n     \"I will meet you in the better world if I never meet you here\n     again.\" He was in poor health and a few months later died a\n     triumphant death.\n\n     The prison physicians gave permission to visit the sick, for they\n     know the words of comfort and songs of cheer by Mother Wheaton\n     will give them encouragement and a desire to live for the better\n     world.\n\n     In a Gospel Mission I heard an ex-convict testify to how God had\n     saved him from a life of sin. He said that he knew \"Mother\n     Wheaton\" but perhaps she did not know him dressed as he was; for\n     when she had met him before he was behind prison bars. He praised\n     God for such a person who was willing to work among that class of\n     people. I am sure there is much good accomplished in the prisons\n     for individuals as Mother Wheaton stands at the door after\n     services and shakes hands with the hundreds of prisoners as they\n     pass out. Her \"God bless you\" is not soon forgotten. When her\n     work is ended and the rewards of the righteous are given, many\n     will arise and call her blessed.\n\n                                                   GRACE YARRETT.\n\n[Illustration: MOTHER WHEATON.]\n\n\n\n\n                            CHAPTER XXIV.\n\n                     Sketches from Press Reports.\n\n\nMy call being not only to the prison bound but to every creature, the\nnewspaper men have received their part of the Gospel message and were\noften instrumental in heralding some truth to their readers whom I\nhave been unable to reach in person. I have often been interviewed by\nreporters regarding my work for the Master and they frequently give\naccounts of meetings held in the prisons, on the streets, etc., very\ncorrectly, though sometimes in a humorous style and from that\nstandpoint of the onlookers or the prisoners. In this chapter I give a\nfew sketches from reports of my work clipped from the papers.\n\n\n                          A LABOR OF LOVE.\n\n     A WOMAN WHO LEFT A LUXURIOUS HOME TO SERVE THE UNFORTUNATE.\n\n        MRS. WHEATON AMONG THE CRIMINALS AT THE PENITENTIARY.\n\n SHE VISITS THE HOSPITALS, JAIL AND WORK-HOUSE--AFFECTING SCENES WHILE\n                           SHE PREACHED.\n\nA white-haird lady, clad in deep mourning, carrying a volume bound in\nmorocco, visited the penitentiary yesterday. This was Mrs. E. R.\nWheaton. In a few minutes she was delivering a sermon to the convicts.\nShe is a remarkable woman. Four years ago she left a luxurious home in\nOhio to preach the gospel to convicts, and since then has exhorted in\nthe penitentiaries of thirty-seven States. She visits hospitals and\nthe abodes of fallen women, also, and has ministered to the wants of\nthousands of unfortunates. An _American_ reporter asked her how she\nhappened to be engaged in the work.\n\n\"No member of my family was ever in a prison or afflicted as are those\nto whom I speak,\" she exclaimed; \"my evangelical work did not\noriginate in any morbid sympathy because of personal bereavement. I\nsimply felt called of God to preach his word to the people, and have\nentered upon it for the remainder of my life. My heart and soul are in\nit, and though I am far from my dear ones I am happy.\"\n\nShe had been speaking to the convicts but a few minutes when the\neffect of her words of exhortation was visible. At first the majority\nwere listless, but as she warmed to her cause they responded with\ncloser attention and in fifteen minutes every eye was fixed intently\nupon the gentle, earnest woman, who sought to save their souls and\nbring a divine light to their benighted lives. When she closed her\ndiscourse and asked if any desired her prayers twenty hardened men of\ncrime, with tears in their eyes, raised their hands and three advanced\nto the mourners' seat. With these she prayed and every word was\nfraught with all the potent power with which the voice of woman in\nprayer is capable. The three unfortunates were moved as men seldom are\nand at the close of the meeting professed conversion.\n\nMrs. Wheaton then visited the hospital department of the penitentiary,\nafter which she went to the jail, work-house and city hospital and at\neach place delivered a discourse. To-day she will see fallen\nwomen.--Nashville American, Nashville, Tenn., 1887.\n\n\n                         A PRISON EVANGELIST.\n\n              ELIZABETH R. WHEATON TALKS AT THE COUNTY JAIL.\n\nElizabeth R. Wheaton, the celebrated prison evangelist, visited the\nBuchanan county jail yesterday, and conducted a religious service of\nforty minutes' length. The evangelist pointed out the errors of her\nhearers and advised them to make early amends. The evangelist assured\nthe audience that all they needed to be saved was faith. Wife murderer\nBulling was one of the evangelist's most attentive hearers, and the\nhorse thieves, burglars and other criminals were among her closest\nlisteners. Sheriff Spratt thinks much good will result from Evangelist\nWheaton's visit to the bastile.--St. Joe, Mo., paper, Aug. 8, 1889.\n\n\n                        PRISON EVANGELIST.\n\nMrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton, prison evangelist, held services in the\ncounty jail this afternoon, lecturing and singing to the eleven\nprisoners there. She told in few words and four songs the whole plan\nof salvation, and it didn't take her but twenty minutes to do it. She\ntalked a little while and sang \"I Will Tell the Wondrous Story,\"\nfollowing with a few words of comment her rich contralto voice burst\ninto \"You Must Be Born Again,\" followed in the same way. Then \"It Pays\nto Serve the Lord,\" and \"Parting to Meet no More,\" closing with a\nshort prayer. These songs coming in the order they do, tell the whole\nstory and make a very pretty one.--Unidentified.\n\n\n                   EVANGELISTIC SERVICE AT PRISON.\n\nElizabeth Wheaton, a noble Christian woman who has consecrated her\nlife to work in prisons, jails, reformatories, houses of correction,\nhouses of refuge and hospitals, visited our city Saturday, and after\npresenting her credentials was given hearty permission to hold\nservices at the prison on Sunday, Father Murphy, the Catholic\nchaplain, whose day it was to officiate, kindly consenting to this\narrangement. Her manner would probably not be agreeable to an \u251c\u017dsthetic\nChristian audience in a fashionable, upholstered church, but she\nknows how to reach the hearts of the men and boys who wear the\nstripes, one of the prisoners, a Catholic, who has been behind the\nbars for almost seventeen years, remarking that this was the best\nservice they had had there during his long term of imprisonment. No\none, be he Christian or pagan, could have listened to the service at\nthe prison chapel last Sunday without being convinced that there was\nan opening for unselfish work among prisoners and that this lady was\npre-eminently fitted for such work. There is no mawkish sentimentality\nabout her, but an all absorbing zeal in the work of leading the\ncriminals, the erring, the lowly, the sick and the afflicted to Christ\nand a better life. It is doubtful if there is an ordained minister in\nthe land who can do as much good in this field as this plain,\nunpretentious, but thoroughly consecrated woman. She has now been\nnearly five years in this work, and has visited nearly every prison in\nthe United States and Canada, a few in Mexico, and also the jails,\nreformatories, houses of refuge and hospitals in all the prominent\ncities through which she has passed. She has traveled almost 100,000\nmiles and has never met with an accident. Wherever she goes she is\nkindly received, non-Christians in fact treat her better than those\nwhose sympathy and co-operation she has a right to expect. Thus does\nthe world ever recognize and honor earnest, conscientious and capable\nlaborers in the cause of God and humanity. She never allows a\ncollection to be taken up in her behalf, though frequently invited to\nspeak in churches, but accepts such offerings as may come without\nsolicitation. Last Sunday, while she and the citizens in the audience\nwere retiring from the chapel, a Swedish servant girl, whose name is\nunknown to the writer, took from her scanty purse a silver dollar and\ngave it to Mrs. Wheaton. If the lesson of the story of the widow's\nmite be true this humble girl's gift was greater than that of the\nmillionaire who gives thousands of dollars toward the erection of a\nmagnificent church edifice.--Stillwater, Minn., Messenger, Oct. 27,\n1888.\n\n\n                      MRS. WHEATON'S ELOQUENCE.\n\n       CAUSES A SUFFERING WIFE TO FORGET HER BRUISES AND\n                     FORGIVE HER CRUEL HUSBAND.\n\nThe case of Henry Cooper was brought up before 'Squire F. yesterday\nafternoon at 2 o'clock.\n\nCatharine Cooper stated that her husband had beat her brutally on last\nSaturday afternoon and that this was not the first ill treatment she\nhad received at his hands.\n\nThe court room was converted into a prayer meeting and Mrs. Wheaton's\nprayers presented an affecting scene; before the trial was ended Mrs.\nCooper asked to withdraw her prosecution and was willing to forgive\nher cruel husband. 'Squire F. ordered the prisoner to be taken to the\nworkhouse to work out the cost of the suit.--Chattanooga, Tenn.,\npaper.\n\n\n       FROM A PRISONER IN THE PRATT MINES STOCKADE, ALABAMA.\n\nTo the Chronicle:\n\nSupposing a line or two from our prison, its surroundings, happenings,\netc., would be acceptable, prompts me to drop you this.\n\nThe monotony of prison life is such that hardly anything transpires,\nthat would command the notice of a news reporter, or draw an article\nfrom a newspaper correspondent. But, Mr. Editor, we had something to\ntake place here last night that beats anything we ever saw or heard\nof.\n\nAbout the time all the convicts had finished eating the evening meal,\nCaptain P. J. Rogers announced that all should remain seated awhile,\nto hear preaching. Now to hear preaching is no uncommon occurrence\nhere, Brother Rush preaches regularly for us, and occasionally other\nministers deliver discourses upon the importance of living the life of\na Christian, so when Capt. R. announced that we were about to have\npreaching, no one experienced much motion of spirit. The minds of\nthose who gave the matter any thought were picturing in expectation, a\nman, perhaps baldheaded, clad in a long priestly robe with Bible and\nHymn-book in hand, and of a solemn, or sanctimonious countenance,\nothers, perhaps, drew a different man in appearance, but none had\ndrawn the picture correctly.\n\nImagine our surprise when instead of a man, a woman of mature age,\nclad in the usual mourning apparel worn by the ladies, armed with\nBible and Hymn-book, mounted the rostrum, and announced that she was\ngoing to preach to us. This announcement at once produced the most\nprofound and reverential silence imaginable--every eye was at once\nriveted upon the face of the fair preacher, whose countenance wore a\npleasant smile and indicated an affectionate and amiable disposition,\nand complete surprise or amazement was vivid upon the countenance of\nher entire audience. The discourse was one worthy of the attention of\nall who heard it--the sufferings of Jesus in and around Jerusalem--His\ntemptation and trial of toil and misery--His holy life--His triumphant\ndeath and resurrection--His grand ascension to the realms of the\nblessed, were eloquently delineated. The certainty of death--the\nshortness of life--the never ending of the life beyond the grave were\ntheories eagerly pressed for reception upon the minds of her hearers.\nTaking all in all, the discourse was well delivered and spiced with\nenough enthusiasm to produce good effect. But, Mr. Editor, the idea\nof a woman canvassing the world in behalf of the church is simply an\nincident so unusual that quite a number of us here eagerly inquire,\nwhat has become of the men? * * * *\n\nElizabeth R. Wheaton, for such is the name of our distinguished\nvisitor, related among other things, that she was called and led by\nthe God of Glory to go all over the world and preach the gospel to the\nlost children of men, that the prisons, saloons, dens of sin and\npollution were the places of her special care. The huts of the poor\nand outcast were by her to be visited and that she did not ask for\nmoney, that her Master had promised to provide all things for her and\ndid so daily.\n\n\n                          SAW MOTHER WHEATON.\n\n THE NOTED PRISON EVANGELIST VISITED THE COUNTY JAIL PRISONERS TODAY.\n\nA kindly faced, white-haired old lady walked into the county jail this\nmorning and asked permission to address the prisoners. She was\n\"Mother\" Elizabeth Rider Wheaton, the prison evangelist, who is known\nfrom coast to coast. As soon as her identity was made known Turnkey\nReynolds and his corps of assistants did their utmost to assist the\ngenerous old lady. She was shown through the building, and then\nallowed to enter each ward.\n\nFrom 11 o'clock until long after the noon hour she remained with the\nunfortunates, visiting them separately and then preaching to all.\nTears were in the eyes of many of these hardened criminals before she\nhad finished.\n\n\"Mother\" Wheaton was met at the jail entrance and asked to explain her\nsystem of working. \"It is all done by faith,\" she said. \"I have faith\nin God, and that is sufficient. He will provide me with all that is\nnecessary to carry on this work.\"\n\n\"Under whose guidance do you work?\" was asked.\n\n\"The Lord's, and His only,\" was the reply.\n\n\"But are you not employed by some religious sect?\"\n\n\"No. I do this on my own responsibility, and for the glory of God. For\nthe past fifteen years this has been my life's work. I go where I\nplease and do as I please.\"\n\n\"How far have you traveled?\"\n\n\"Thousands and thousands of miles. Last year I was in Europe and have\nbeen all over America.\"\n\nFor the past forty years \"Mother\" Wheaton has been a professed\nbeliever in Christianity. Fifteen years ago she started in the work of\nvisiting prisons, and has been in every place of detention in any city\nof note. She is received with the utmost courtesy both by the\nofficials and the prisoners. Many of the latter have met her at\ndifferent places, and most all the officials are acquainted with her\nand her work.--A Detroit paper.\n\n\n                        THE PRISON EVANGELIST.\n\n MRS. E. R. WHEATON DELIVERS AN ADDRESS AT THE PENITENTIARY CHAPEL\n                           SUNDAY MORNING.\n\nThe service at the penitentiary chapel Sunday was made memorable by\nthe presence and discourse of Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, the world-known\nprison evangelist. Chaplain Winget conducted the services and offered\nthe invocation and in a few explanatory remarks introduced Mrs.\nWheaton. Mrs. Wheaton's hair is white as silver, but she still retains\nher ever-youthful appearance and sprightly step. She sang in an\nindescribably sweet, but powerful, voice \"Some Mother's Child.\" At the\nconclusion of the singing Mrs. Wheaton preached a wonderful discourse.\n\"I was on my way to Jerusalem,\" said she, \"and had gotten as far as\nLondon, England, when the Lord turned me back to my own country and to\nmy suffering boys in prison; and I said God bless my children, my\nboys, for I am their mother.\n\n\"Oh! how sad and discouraged many of you are, but if you will believe\nin God and read your Bible you will be comforted. How can any man have\nthe heart not to believe the Bible and rest his case upon the bosom of\nthe good Lord who died for us? I thank God that the good old-time\nreligion still lives. The devil, my children, causes you all your\nsufferings and sorrows. Exchange him for Jesus. He will keep you.\nForgive your enemies and submit yourself to the officers of the\nprison. You must obey--it is the Lord's will. He has placed you here\nfor his own purpose, maybe for your soul's good and salvation. Jesus\nsays, 'Come to me all ye that are heavy laden and I will give you\nrest.' Have faith. I am so sorry when some of you do wrong for the\ninnocent must suffer with the guilty and society becomes stern with\nyou. God bless you all.\"--Columbus, Ohio, paper.\n\n\n         MRS. ELIZABETH RIDER WHEATON PREACHES TO UNFORTUNATES.\n\n            VISITS THE BRIDEWELL AND HEARS THE COMPLAINT OF\n                    ONE OF THE CITY'S CHARGES.\n\n\"What's the use? What have I to hope for? Who cares for me? Who'll\nhelp me? What can I do when my time expires? Everybody's hand will be\nagainst me! A hopeless drunkard is past redemption.\"\n\nTears came to the eyes of Mrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton yesterday\nafternoon as she heard these words fall from the lips of a dejected\nprisoner at the bridewell. The prison and train evangelist whose work\nfor fifteen years among convicts had brought her many such questions,\nwhich she was unable to answer to the satisfaction of the prisoners,\nspoke to the wretched man in tender tones, and told him of the\nconsolation offered by religion.\n\n\"But,\" she said, turning to a reporter, \"what can I do in one\nconversation? It needs many. I'm going back to Chicago next week, and\nI intend to devote considerable time to every prison and house of\nrefuge in the city. I haven't done any work in the city since the\nanarchist execution.\"\n\nMrs. Wheaton's methods of evangelizing are sometimes dramatic. For\ninstance, Mrs. Wheaton arrived in Chicago from St. Louis on a Wabash\ntrain early yesterday morning. Night before last, while the train was\nspeeding along in the darkness, the occupants of the reclining chair\ncar were startled.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried a voice in shrill tones. \"We're coming to a high\nbridge. Before we reach it we pass over a curve. The rails may be all\nright, the bridge may be safe; but who knows?\"\n\nThe passengers turned around in their seats. They looked frightened\nand appeared anxious to know whether there was really an impending\ndanger. They saw only a woman whose face, softened by grief, bore\nlines of pain and care. She was Mrs. Wheaton.\n\n\"But the Christian is not afraid to die,\" she continued. \"He welcomes\ndeath as a release from care and a blessing.\"\n\nThen the evangelist preached a sermon, to which all listened with\nattention.\n\nAlthough Mrs. Wheaton has visited every state in the Union many times\nduring her fifteen years of missionary work, she has been in a\nsleeping car but once. Railroads give her passes. She has no\nproperty, and, of course, can collect no money from convicts, though\noccasionally she receives a contribution on trains.\n\n\"The trouble of it all,\" said she after her talk with the man in the\nbridewell, \"is not in the prisons. It is after the convicts get out.\nFor that, humanity is to blame. Prisoners have not much hope, and some\nof them accept religion in a tentative sort of way.\n\n\"When they are released they are hounded by the police, marked by all\ncitizens as ostracized men, unable to get employment, and, in fact,\nthe second termers tell me they are reduced almost to the necessity of\nchoosing between starvation and stealing. Those whose conversion is\nreal do neither, because no man need ever starve in this country, but\nthe weak go under and are brought back to jail. What the world needs\nis more Christian charity. We should forgive, as our Saviour did,\nseventy times seven.\"\n\nIn addition to her charm as a speaker, Mrs. Wheaton is a singer of no\nmean ability. She is not a believer in men who accept religion for the\nsake of business and put on a sanctimonious air. The view that she\ntakes of life meets with favor among the convicts, and she sings a\nsong called \"The Twin Ballots,\" which illustrates her opinion on the\ntemperance question. The song is about two rum votes that sanctioned\nthe license plan, \"but one was cast by a cunning brewer and one by a\nSunday-school man.\"\n\nThe evangelist left last night for Pittsburg, but will return next\nweek. She said she wished to impress upon people the fact that\nconverted prisoners are not hypocrites, although the guards often\nsuspect insincerity and treat a converted man worse than any other,\nbecause they think he is seeking to curry favor.--A Chicago paper.\n\n\n                      A DISGRACEFUL PROCEEDING.\n\nThursday afternoon, Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton, the noted prison\nevangelist, accompanied by a sister, asked permission from a\npoliceman, which was granted, to hold a street meeting for religious\npurposes.\n\nAfter singing some hymns, which, from their superior rendition,\nattracted a large crowd, Mrs. Wheaton, an elderly lady who has devoted\nseven years of her time entirely to prison evangelical work, began an\nearnest exhortation to sinners. After preaching for a few minutes\nOfficer C. came up and said that the mayor had ordered him to put a\nstop to the proceedings.\n\nMrs. Wheaton said she would do her duty without fear of man and\ncontinued for a moment longer. Then the party knelt on the snow and\nbegan to pray for the mayor and the policeman. While they were praying\nthe officer came up closely followed by Mayor J., and roughly pushed\nMrs. Wheaton over. The mayor with fire in his eye as well as his\ncomplexion, spoke in a very rude manner to the ladies, practically\nendorsing the rough treatment already accorded the party.\n\nMrs. Wheaton showed _The Dispatch_ credentials from very high sources\nand a very bulky bundle of railroad passes which gave substantial\nevidence of the manner in which she and her work are regarded\nelsewhere.\n\nShe has traveled over the United States and Mexico, and parts of\nEurope, and it remained for a Leadville mayor to break the record and\ntreat her with indignity. She was very much shocked and grieved and\nsaid she felt deeply sorry for Leadville, which she had often heard\nspoken of as a wicked city.\n\n_The Dispatch_ is free to say that Mayor J. acted without adequate\nprovocation and displayed an unnecessary exercise of authority. If the\nservices had been prolonged to any great extent he might have sent a\nrequest to have them discontinued, but there was no occasion for any\nsuch arbitrary exhibition of power as was made.\n\nFar greater blockades with less meritorious objects have existed\nwithout protest in Leadville. A medicine faker who pays a few dollars\nlicense can yell and sing and make night hideous for hours and it is\nall right, but a humble evangelical missionary, whose sincerity and\ngood intentions are not doubted, however persons may differ concerning\nthe methods, is unceremoniously made to move on. If the authorities\ndisplayed as much zeal in suppressing vice as they do in shutting off\nmissionaries, Leadville would be a model city.\n\nThe prison evangelists, after having been ordered off Harrison avenue,\nvisited both city and county jails, where they were kindly received\nand permitted by the officers to hold services among the prisoners. It\nis said that this is the first religious service held in the Leadville\njails.--Leadville, Colo., Dispatch, March, 1891.\n\n\n                             DISGRACEFUL.\n\nLast night, when the ladies who have been conducting religious\nservices in the park, were preparing to close, some miscreant in human\nform threw a small torpedo at them and struck Mrs. Wheaton above the\nright eye. It did not produce any serious injury, but was very painful\nat the time, and may terminate worse than at first supposed. This act\nevidently issued from some low, depraved fiend whom the darkness of\nthe hour shielded from justice. The ladies departed from the city this\nmorning, and the exact result of the disgraceful episode cannot be\nlearned. As soon as it was done some man in the crowd offered $100\nreward for the identification of the party who did the dastardly\ntrick, but of course no one knew who the miscreant was except he\nhimself.--Jacksonville, Ill., paper, June 26, 1887.\n\n\n                       THE PRISON EVANGELIST.\n\n\"Elizabeth Rider Wheaton, prison evangelist, Chicago, Ill. Meet me in\nheaven. No home but heaven.\" This is what is printed on the card of a\nremarkable woman who visited the penitentiary and talked to the\nconvicts at 11 o'clock on Sunday. This woman has been engaged in this\nwork for about nine years, and she has visited nearly every prison and\njail in the United States, Canada and Mexico. She is the Moody of the\nconvict world. She asks for no money. She gives her services free, and\ntrusts to Providence for her support. \"The Lord provides,\" she says.\nShe has held services in a different state or territorial prison the\npast five Sundays, from Stillwater, Minn. (where Cole Younger is\nconfined and assists in and sometimes leads religious services), to\nSalem, Oregon. Mrs. Wheaton also visits reform schools. She is one of\nthe chief advocates of the reformatory system being adopted in some of\nthe Eastern prisons whereby convicts of different classes are graded\nand kept separate, wear different uniforms, etc., and are also let out\non furloughs on trial or probation. Mrs. Wheaton devotes her whole\ntime to prison work. She certainly accomplishes some good from all\nthis effort. She was a Methodist before taking up this life work, but\nnow holds to no sect.--Salem, Oregon, paper, Nov. 16, 1891.\n\n\n                             A NOBLE WORK.\n\nAmong the evangelistic workers who go out among the people seeking the\nlow and degraded and trying to lift them up to be better men and\nwomen, Elizabeth R. Wheaton is one of the chosen few who is well\nadapted to this work. She asks no pay and receives none, but with\nnoble purpose and with heart and mind fully in the work which has been\ngiven her, she travels from Maine to California and from British\nColumbia to the Gulf of Mexico.\n\nHer work is chiefly among the state prisons, county jails and reform\nschools. Here she meets a class of people schooled in vice and who\nhave been kept face to face with the different evils all their lives;\nthese are the people whom she seeks to save.\n\nMrs. Wheaton has just returned from a successful trip through Mexico\nand the South and is now on her way to Walla Walla, Portland and\nBritish Columbia. She stopped off here to visit our penitentiary and\njail. Through the kindness of the warden she held a song service last\nSunday at the State penitentiary, and the amount of good which she did\nwas shown by the eager attention of the convicts, and the tear-stained\nfaces of some who, when the good old-fashioned hymns were sung,\nthought of their far-away homes and mothers. Sunday evening she held\nservices at the jail and on the street, both of which were much\nappreciated.--Unidentified.\n\n\n                       GOSPEL FOR THE PRISONERS.\n\n     THE INMATES OF ATLANTA'S PRISONS HEARD PREACHING YESTERDAY.\n\nThe prisoners at police headquarters, at the jail and at the city\nstockade listened to the gospel of Christ yesterday.\n\nMrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton, the famous prison evangelist, of\nWashington, held services at all these places. Her talks were of the\nmost interesting character and evidently made deep impressions upon\nher hearers.\n\nThe service at the jail was held in the morning, the one at the\nstockade in the afternoon, and the one at the police station at night.\n\nMrs. Wheaton is perhaps the most famous evangelist of her kind in the\ncountry. She makes a specialty of this work and follows it closely\nweek after week. She has preached to convicts and prisoners in every\nstate in the Union, frequently traveling as far as 700 miles between\nSundays in order to make an appointment. She has letters of\nintroduction from the governors of many states, and free passes on\nrailroads. She is here with the Christian Workers, but is not a\ndelegate.--Atlanta, Ga., paper, Nov. 14, 1893.\n\n\n                         PRISON EVANGELISTS.\n\n         THE INMATES OF THE COUNTY JAIL TREATED TO A SERMON.\n\nMrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton, the prison evangelist, who has been\ntraveling over the United States for ten years past, and two sisters\nfrom Washington, D. C., and Kansas City, arrived in the city this\nmorning and held religious service in the county jail. The twenty-four\ninmates of the bastile were much pleased with the service.\n\nMrs. Wheaton and her companions held services yesterday at the\nprison at Lansing, Kan., where 900 convicts are confined. Lately\nthey have come from the convict camp of South Carolina and Mrs.\nWheaton can tell many tales of the sufferings endured by the\nprisoners there.--Unidentified.\n\n\n                       THE NEWS AT LEAVENWORTH.\n\n        MOTHER WHEATON, PRISON EVANGELIST, VISITS THE UNITED\n                          STATES PRISON.\n\nReligious services at the federal penitentiary at Fort Leavenworth\nyesterday were somewhat out of the usual order. Mother Wheaton, the\nprison evangelist, late of Washington, D. C., now of Iowa, preached to\nthe convicts at the morning hour. Her address was a most effective\none and men all through the audience were moved to tears. At the close\nof the service she stood at the chapel door and shook the hand of each\nprisoner as he went out.\n\nHer head is white with age, yet she has visited the prisons of the\nUnited States and many in Europe, bearing messages of hope and cheer\nto the condemned. She is not alone a woman of ready speech, but is a\nsweet singer as well. Her life is dedicated to her work, and many is\nthe unfortunate who has cause to bless the visit of Mother Wheaton.\nMrs. T., of this city, accompanied her to the prison.--Leavenworth,\nKan., paper.\n\n\n                             JAIL SERVICE.\n\nThe inmates of the county jail were honored yesterday by a visit from\nthat well known prison evangelist, Elizabeth Rider Wheaton, who was\naccompanied by a Mrs. S., of Kansas. Mrs. Wheaton conducted religious\nservices and her talk had a deep effect upon murderer Williamson, the\nold man being visibly moved.\n\nMrs. Wheaton has made the visiting of prisons, condemned men and\nfallen women her life work, and in the course of her travels during\nthe past seven years has visited Europe, the British provinces, Mexico\nand the United States. As an example of her earnest efforts it may be\nmentioned that during the past thirteen Sundays she has visited and\nheld services in fourteen different state penitentiaries. Mrs. Wheaton\nis a lady of striking appearance. She has a motherly countenance and a\nmagnetism which attracts the closest attention to what she says. Her\ndiscourse yesterday was eloquent, yet at times plain and pointed to\nseverity. Mrs. Wheaton left yesterday on the afternoon train for the\nPacific coast.--Sedalia, Mo., paper, November, 1891.\n\n\n                          PREACHED TO CONVICTS.\n\nMrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton, the noted evangelist, and Mrs. Perry,\nwho are engaged in preaching and working among the prisons, visited\nthe Virginia penitentiary yesterday and held services in each chapel.\nTheir exhortations and singing were of a high order and produced a\npowerful effect among the prisoners. Many of them made a profession of\nfaith. Mrs. Wheaton has preached in most of the penitentiaries of the\nUnited States. She has also traveled and preached in Canada and Mexico\nas well as in the Old World. The ladies are being entertained by\nSuperintendent Lynn and will remain in the city several days.\n\n\n                        POLICE STATION SERVICES.\n\n  MRS. ELIZABETH RIDER WHEATON TALKS TO THE MEMBERS OF THE FORCE.\n\nMrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton, the evangelist, was at the police\nstation last night at roll call and held a short service for the\nbenefit of the members of the police force. She delivered an\ninteresting address to the officers and offered a prayer, after which\nshe led them in a song. The officers expressed themselves as having\nbeen greatly benefited by the service, and the evangelist was invited\nto call again.--Unidentified.\n\n\n                      SERVICES AT THE WORKHOUSE.\n\n\"Mother\" Wheaton, the prison evangelist, who was mentioned last Monday\nas holding meetings in Island Park the day before, called at the\npolice station this morning to ask permission to talk and sing to the\nprisoners confined in the workhouse. The permission was granted. The\nlady has traveled extensively in her evangelistic work, making flying\ntrips all over the United States especially. Within the last thirty\ndays she has talked to prisoners at Walla Walla, Tacoma and in other\nnorthwestern cities. While in this city she is the guest of her\nsister, Mrs. Huffman, of Kenwood.--Elkhart (Ind.) Paper.\n\n\n              A STRANGE LIFE OF DEVOTION IN NEGLECTED FIELDS.\n\nThe prisoners in the Dade coal mines made the acquaintance yesterday\nof two women--two religious tramps, if you please, using the word\nliterally--whose adventures in evangelizing are probably without\nparallel.\n\nThey are Mrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton, the famous prison evangelist,\nand her temporary assistant, Mrs. P.\n\nMrs. Wheaton has for ten years been preaching in prisons, convict\ncamps, houses of ill-fame and the like, not only in the United States,\nbut in Canada, Mexico and Europe. One, upon meeting her, would\nnaturally be very uncertain as to where one might or might not meet\nnext this spirit-led traveler--recognizing which uncertainty, perhaps,\nshe has printed upon her cards, in lieu of an earthly address:\n\n\"Meet me in heaven.\"\n\nThe two women visited the jail Thursday, becoming very much interested\nin the case of P. S., it seems, on account of his relationship to Rev.\nS. J. Mrs. Wheaton spoke of P. as a \"beautiful black-eyed young\nmarried man.\"\n\nThey took part in the Christian alliance meeting Friday afternoon at\n51 James street, at which over thirty people were present.\n\nThey will hold special services at the coal mine convict camps to-day,\nreturning to Atlanta within a few days. They carry this letter--an\n\"open sesame\" to every prison and camp in Georgia:\n\n     \"Atlanta, Ga., June 30.--To the captain in charge of convict\n     camps in Georgia: I desire that each of you extend to these\n     ladies, Mrs. Wheaton and Mrs. ----, any courtesies possible\n     during their stay with you; that they may be given opportunities\n     to talk to the men and women in your charge. I will particularly\n     appreciate any kindness shown them. The governor also requests\n     that they be shown courtesies.\"\n\nIt is signed by George H. Jones, the principal keeper. \"Courtesies,\"\nby the way, is spelled \"curtisys\" in the letter, but it's official,\nand \"it goes.\"\n\nReturn to Atlanta--that is to say they will return unless the spirit\nmoves Mrs. Wheaton to go on from Chattanooga to St. Louis, or\nMontreal, or Berlin, or somewhere else.\n\nComing to Atlanta on the Richmond and Danville, Mrs. Wheaton was moved\nto hold services in the smoking car. Just as the train was rolling out\nof Calhoun, S. C., Mrs. Wheaton spied some convicts at work.\n\nConvicts!\n\nInstantly she decided to stop over. She and Mrs. P. bundled up their\nwraps and packages and got off after the train had started. They knew\nnobody there. They had no money--that is, \"not enough to count.\"\nSomehow or other they got transportation to and from the station, and\nsupper, and to other works, and arranged a meeting. It was a glorious\nmeeting, they say.\n\nMrs. Wheaton's faith--and railroad passes, she adds laughingly--have\nkept her going for ten years.\n\nShe traveled 5,000 miles between one Sunday and the second Sunday\nafterwards, collecting only fifty cents on the way.\n\nThe Lord will provide, she knows.\n\nThe faith that removes mountains is here in reality.\n\nAlways on the go--never stopping but a day or two in one\nplace--meeting men to be hanged the next day--praying with fallen\nwomen--interceding with governors for human life--blindly following,\nwithout regard to time or distance, the mysterious dictates of what\nshe calls \"the Spirit.\"\n\nShe is so well known now throughout the United States--having been\nengaged in this work for ten years--that she is rarely refused a\nrailroad pass. She has letters of commendation from governors and\nprison authorities. * * *\n\nMrs. Wheaton's services in the jails and convict camps are unique,\nremarkable for their fervency and impromptu character. Singing plays\nan important part. * * *\n\nMrs. Wheaton has made many wonderful conversions in the slums and\nprisons, and has seen many famous criminals in their last hours.\n\nShe is the guest in Atlanta of Mrs. J. H. Murphy, at 267 East Cain\nstreet.--Atlanta (Ga.) Herald, July 2, 1893.\n\n\n                       PREACHING ON THE STREETS.\n\nThursday evening the sound of an alto voice singing a familiar hymn on\nSandy street, near Murphy's corner, soon gathered a crowd, when a\nlady, whose hair was beginning to silver with gray, mounted a box and\npreached to the mixed assemblage a sermon, after which the singing was\nresumed, the meeting concluding with a fervent and earnest prayer. A\nreporter called at the hotel and learned that the lady was Mrs.\nElizabeth R. Wheaton, a prison evangelist. Heretofore she has had a\n\"sister\" to travel with her. She showed the reporter stacks of letters\nfrom the wardens of various state penitentiaries, commending her, and\npraising the work she has done in this specialty. She has preserved\nfiles of newspaper criticisms, many of which are complimentary of the\nwork she has done, and some from the secular press making light of her\nwork.\n\nThat she is in earnest no one who considers that she has given up home\nand friends and roamed all over the United States, Canada, Mexico and\nin part of Europe to preach to unappreciative street crowds, prison\nconvicts, etc., can doubt. And whatever may be said of the method, as\nwas illustrated on the streets here last night, there are many\nreached with a sermon that have not perhaps heard one for\nmonths.--Unidentified.\n\n\n                       PRAYER SERVICE IN JAIL.\n\nThrough the efforts of Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, the prison evangelist, the\ncounty jail was turned into a house of prayer last evening, and for an\nhour or more the walls of the building resounded with the shouts of\nprayer and praise of this earnest woman.\n\nDuring the afternoon Mrs. Wheaton called on Gregory, the horsethief\nand desperado, and was the first to bring to the surface in his case\nany signs of remorse or sentiment of any kind. When the gray-haired\nand motherly woman took the hand of the confessed thief and ex-convict\nin hers and prayed for him great tears flowed down his cheeks and he\nwas affected as none of the other prisoners had been. Gregory said he\nhad known Mrs. Wheaton for fourteen years. She does not remember him,\nbut says it is not unlikely that he has seen her if he has been in the\nseveral prisons in which it is said he has served time, as she has\nbeen visiting them all off and on in her work for a great many\nyears.--Council Bluffs, Iowa, Nonpareil, Jan. 19, 1900.\n\n\n                       THEIR WORK IS IN PRISONS.\n\nParty of Evangelists Pay a Visit to the County Jail.\n\nMrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton, the prison evangelist, was in Butte for\na short time yesterday on her way west, and between trains conducted\nservices in the corridor of the county jail.\n\nIn addition to being an earnest exhorter, Mrs. Wheaton, despite the\nfact that she is well advanced in years, is the possessor of a fine\nvoice. When she sings in a prison the most hardened criminals never\nfail to listen to her with great respect. During the services in the\njail yesterday clerks and court officers ceased from their duties and\nwith the people who had business in the building, blocked the passage\nways leading to the jail to listen to her. The other members of the\nparty also delivered exhortations and joined in the singing. The\nfarewell hymn, given in a clear soprano voice by Mrs. Wheaton, \"God be\nwith you till we meet again,\" was especially sweet. Whether the\nservices made any lasting impression on the men behind the bars cannot\nbe known, but the fact remains that when they were over there was an\nunusual quiet in the jail and the air seemed more wholesome. From\nButte she went to Deer Lodge to visit the penitentiary.--Butte,\nMontana, paper, 1897.\n\n\n                          STREET SERVICES.\n\nOn Wednesday and Thursday our town was visited by two lady\nmissionaries or preachers of the gospel. They were perfect strangers\nhere and claimed that their mission was to try to open the eyes of\nsinful people and beg them to come to Christ. They sang, prayed and\npreached upon the streets, and at the colored church, having been\nrefused the use of some of the white churches. We know not whom these\npersons are, or from where they came, but we do know that they were\nvery lady-like in their conduct, and there was a terrible earnestness\nabout their work. They preached pure gospel in the most Christ-like\nmanner that it was ever our privilege to hear--down upon their knees\nin the streets, surrounded by a motley multitude, begging God in a\nmost pleading and fervent manner to save the sinners of this place,\nand singing glorious praises to Him on this beautiful day of national\nthanksgiving, was a spectacle that we had never expected to witness.\nWhether or not this is proper in the eyes of the world we cannot say,\nbut if their work is earnest as it seems, they will be rewarded in\nheaven.--Unidentified.\n\n\n                           FOR PRISONERS.\n\n          TOUCHING SCENES IN BANGOR JAIL.--GOOD DEEDS THAT\n                      SHINE IN MORAL DARKNESS.\n\nNever were gospel hymns--words of comfort set to hopeful music, sang\nmore sweetly and earnestly, or with better effect than were the songs\nof a plainly dressed woman of tranquil face and gentle manner in the\nechoing corridors of Bangor jail Tuesday afternoon.\n\nThis woman was Mrs. Elizabeth Rider Wheaton whose home is everywhere\nin earth's saddest ways. She is a prison evangelist and her card bears\nthe simple admonition: \"Prepare to Meet Thy God.\"\n\nShe came lately to Maine, and arrived in Bangor Tuesday noon from\nBelfast. On the train Mrs. Wheaton talked of Christian things, and she\nsang hymns to the passengers--\"Throw Out the Life Line\" and other\nwell-remembered songs--in a way that reached the hearts of all. When\nshe got here she went for a few minutes to a low-priced hotel, and\nthence to the county jail. The officials received her kindly, and the\nprisoners, who, after their dinner of soup, had gone into the work\nshop, were brought in to hear some of the kindest words and most\ntouching songs that they had listened to for many a day.\n\nThose innocent and comfortable Christians who have only heard hymns\nsung in churches or chapels to well-dressed and presumably good\npeople can have no idea of the sweetly weird effect of gospel melodies\nswelling in the vast and dismal spaces of a jail, while gathered\naround are the very lost sheep that the shepherds of churches are\ncommanded to find. It is a reproachful picture from the realism of\nblasted lives--a startling, chilling glimpse of the depth of\nwretchedness, lighted up by a feeble ray from the goodness that yet\nsurvives amid it all.\n\nSome old and hardened habitues of jails mock and sneer at the voices\nraised in their behalf and scoff at the hands held out to lift them\nup, but most men, in jail or out, treat women like this with silent\nrespect. It was so in the jail Tuesday.\n\nWhen the men had filed out to the broom shop again Mrs. Wheaton went\nto a cell occupied by two elderly women and talked and sang to them.\nThe women, whose wickedness all lay in drink, seemed pleased and\naffected. They thought this evangelist the kindest they had ever met.\n\nThe evangelist may hold some meetings here before she leaves. She was\nmuch pleased with her reception in Bangor, and would like to remain a\nfew days. She has letters of recommendation from the governors of\nseveral states and from the officials of numerous prisons. She belongs\nto no army or organization, but travels independently, doing what good\nshe can.--Bangor, Me., paper.\n\n\n                      ELIZABETH R. WHEATON.\n\n    THE NOTED PRISON EVANGELIST PAYS THE TRINIDAD JAILS A VISIT.\n\nElizabeth R. Wheaton, the well-known prison evangelist, arrived in the\ncity Monday evening and yesterday visited the county and city jails,\nwhere she talked and prayed with the poor unfortunates confined\ntherein. * * * More than one poor fellow has blessed the short hour\nwhen her motherly presence and sweetly spoken words of comfort have\nmade his fate seem easier to bear, while repentant tears have filled\nthe eyes of many a hardened criminal when listening to her pleadings.\nShe approaches the most degraded with a familiar motherly air, which\nat once wins their most profound respect and reverence. * * *\n\nMrs. Wheaton expects to leave today for Pueblo where she will be\njoined by a sister in the work, when they will continue their journey\ntogether. She spoke very highly of the courteous treatment received\nfrom the officers and of the cleanly condition of the jails.--Daily\nAdvertiser, Trinidad, Colo.\n\n\n                       VISIT FROM MISSIONARIES.\n\nElizabeth Rider Wheaton, better known as \"Mother Wheaton,\" the prison\nevangelist, and Mrs. Elizabeth Taylor, of Tabor, Iowa, called at the\nInstitution Thursday afternoon on a missionary errand. Mother Wheaton\nhas spent fifteen years in evangelical work among the inmates of the\nvarious prisons throughout the United States. Her friends among the\nconvicts are numbered by the thousands. We so rarely meet with any one\nwho really sympathizes with us in our misfortune that when these two\ngood women come inside the walls for no other purpose but to encourage\nus to do better and give assurance of their love and good wishes, we\nare made to feel that we are still human and may hope for a better\nday. By reason of the chapel building undergoing repairs, it was\nimpossible for them to meet many of the boys or hold services.--A\nPrison Paper.\n\n\n                          A REMARKABLE SCENE.\n\n    A WORK OF LOVE BY AN ELDERLY LADY.--THE SCENERY OF OAK CLIFF.\n\nLast night the moon shed its full luster slightly dimmed by thin\nclouds.\n\nThe crowd stood by a negro church at the point of the hill, just above\nthe creek banks at their intersection. The view from the top of the\nhill was enchanting.\n\nThe lady passed the crowd and stopped in the moonshine in front of the\nchurch. Here she was joined by a party of three other ladies and two\nmen, whom she had preceded a little. Two of the ladies held babies in\ntheir arms.\n\nIn a strong and beautiful alto voice a song burst forth from the lips\nof the elderly lady: \"I Will Tell the Wondrous Story of the Christ Who\nDied for Me.\" Her companions joined her in the song and the refrain\nechoed far and near over the hillsides: \"Of the Christ who died for\nme.\"\n\nThe inhabitants heard it.\n\nBut this is the part of Oak Cliff inhabited by negroes. In response\nthey swarmed out as would have done the followers to the signal of\nRoderick Dhu.\n\nPretty soon the church was filled and a few white people were among\nthe audience drawn thither by the song.\n\nThe services were begun with prayer by the elderly lady, whose hair,\nwhen she had removed her bonnet, shone silvery gray. It was nothing\nout of the usual order of prayers except that it was accompanied with\nunusual fervor and simplicity being adapted to the circumstances. If\nany had assembled through curiosity she prayed that their hearts would\nbe turned.\n\nThen came other singing and prayer by a good colored sister named\nCynthia Maria, who wore a white bonnet, and chanted her words, making\nthe scene a wierd one.\n\nThen the elderly lady rendered in beautiful solo, \"Oh Christ, I am\nlost forever. I am to confront an angry God,\" from which she began her\ndiscourse, pleading to her colored hearers to open their hearts that\nnight. She said she had the old time religion. This announcement was\ngreeted with religious laughter from the congregation. The women had\nnot been allowed to preach and she thought that there were souls in\nperdition on this account. People said that she had no business there\nlast night. She had business in glory and was going to help crown\nChrist the Lord of Lords. For seven years she had been a pilgrim and\nhad traveled from ocean to ocean and from state to state without\nreceiving a salary or taking up a cent. There was the same God with\nher who was with Daniel in the lions' den, and who led the Children of\nIsrael through the Red Sea. She had seen sore trouble, but there were\nfew who knew it. She had the old-time religion, and that was what her\nhearers needed. She forsook home and country to go and preach the\ngospel to convicts and fallen women and most of her friends had\nforsaken her for this. She used to be proud. She had given up pride\nand given up style. She was glad that God had called the meeting. She\ndid not know that she was to preach there until yesterday afternoon\nwhen someone informed her that the colored people wanted her to\npreach. She had visited the county jail last Sunday and prayed and\nsang with the prisoners. Some of them had forgotten about the old-time\nreligion and requested her to sing the song having that title.\n\nHere the woman began that song joined by the congregation, a large\nnumber of whom got happy. It required the efforts of several of the\ncolored portion of the congregation to hold down one sister who wore a\nstraw hat and got shouting happy and paid no attention to her\nsurroundings.\n\nAfter a short talk by Rev. B., colored, the congregation was\ndismissed.\n\n\n                        AT THE COLORED CHURCH.\n\n     MRS. ELIZABETH R. WHEATON LECTURES ON THE IMPORTANCE OF\n  CONVERSION--SHE SAYS THE HARDEST PEOPLE TO CONVERT ARE PREACHERS.\n\nAs a News reporter and a News special artist, guided by a friendly\nstar, wended their muddy way last night to the little negro church\nupon the hill at Oak Cliff, they overtook two solemn looking figures\ngoing up an incline. One of them proved to be the famous prison\nevangelist, Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton. This lady turned her face to\nthe News emissaries and inquired in a sweet silvery tone:\n\n\"Going to church, brothers?\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am.\"\n\n\"Oh, God bless you, brothers, come on.\"\n\nA few minutes later the church was reached. The penitent sister with\nthe white bonnet, who was inspired on the previous night and started\nto shouting, had already arrived, as also had the good sister who\ncalled on the baseball man to run from the devil. What influence\ndrives those simple worshipers to shouting and to imitate flying, is a\nquestion for the psychologists. Certain it is that the little and the\ngreat are linked together in this life and perhaps the present is\nlinked to the future. Quien sabe. The meeting last night was free from\nshouting, but fervid with emotion. On arriving in front of the church\nMrs. Wheaton turned her face to the pale moon, which had sailed high\nin the heavens, and sang \"Sweet are the tidings that greet the\npilgrims' ear.\" As she sung she gesticulated and her gray hair shone\nlike silver. She had not gone beyond the third line of the said\nstirring hymn before the penitents inside of the church started to\nsing a hymn and then the scene was as impressive as the music was\ndiscordant. The hymns over, Mrs. Wheaton knelt on the wet ground and\nprayed while Deacon Banks did likewise inside of the church. The\ninterjections were so many that he was forced to use short sentences.\n\n\"Come one, come all, while it is day.\"\n\n\"O, yes, Lord, we come, we'se a'comin'.\"\n\n\"O Lord, put the move on and call us away.\"\n\n\"O, yes, good Lord, we come.\"\n\nAt this point Mrs. Wheaton entered and ascended the low pulpit from\nwhich, for a moment, she silently surveyed the assembled multitude of\nblack faces. She was wreathed in smiles, looking like the sun of\nrighteousness shining on a dark, murky cloud of suffering humanity.\n\n\"God grant,\" she observed, \"that nobody goes down to the lake of\nfire.\" \"God grant it, ma-a-a-m.\" \"Oh-oh-bo-bo.\" \"Nobody knows de\ntrouble I see,\" and any number of exclamations each giving vent to an\nexclamation suited to the feelings of the penitent. The mention of\nfire seemed to cause a panic among the good colored people with a\nsingle exception. He was a dude who did not deign to sit down, but\nstood near the door seemingly watching the females. Only once did he\ndrop on his knees and that was when he discovered the News artist in\nthe act of tracing his outlines on the flyleaf of a prayer book.\n\nMrs. Wheaton then lectured upon the importance of conversion. As she\nproceeded, describing the fate of convicts and other sufferers, the\niron of the ways of the world seemed to enter her soul and she wept.\nNobody who hears her doubts her sincerity. She does not criticise the\nfallen; she weeps for them. The folks in heaven do the same. Only once\nlast night did she criticise, and she said she did it for a benevolent\npurpose, and as she did it (as indeed throughout her entire remarks)\nthe colored woman with the man's straw hat interlarded her remarks\nwith her own opinions rendered in a whanging, chanting voice. This was\nhow it ran: \"The churches have got away from the old land marks [yes,\nma'am; deed they has, ma'am]. It is hard, hard work to reach preachers\n[yes, ma'am; yes, ma'am]. The big white preachers and the colored\npreachers are nearly just as bad [O Lord, yes; good Lord ye-e-s,\nma'am.] They put on plug hats, jewelry and the trickery of the devil.\nIf preachers would do their duty I would not have to visit the\npenitentiaries. Oh, the hardest work I have is to preach to preachers.\n[Dat's so, ma'am; dat's so!] How many of you are living in\nlasciviousness, the sin that's hidden but that God sees? It is going\non in the churches among some of the preachers. [Ah, yes, ma'am: good\nLord! Deed'n 'tis, ma'am]. Ah! I have got to go to judgment and I will\ntell you the truth. There are other sins, but I do not want to mention\nthem because I feel that you know all about them; but they won't be\nhidden and unless you have a pure spirit and a clean heart you can\nnever see the face of God. Now say you will sin no more. [Several\nvoices in alto: A-a-a-men.] These white churches,\" proceeded Mrs.\nWheaton, \"are a little worse than the colored churches, for there is a\nlittle Holy Ghost left in the colored churches. Oh, how many of those\nwhite church members are going down to hell! It grieves me to think\nof it. I'm going to meet some of you in glory. After I get there the\nfirst ones I want to see crowned are the poor convicts who have been\nmurdered on the scaffold after they had turned their faces to God, and\nthose poor convicts who have suffered, oh, you know not how much, how\nmuch, without human sympathy.\"\n\nAt this point a sad-looking man volunteered a hymn, during the singing\nof which much of Mrs. Wheaton's remarks were drowned. Mrs. Wheaton\nresumed: \"It troubles my heart to see the people drifting down, down\nto hell. I feel like getting down to the foot of the cross and crying\nmercy. For the attractions of this world I have no use; I have no use\nfor newspaper puffs. [They's no good, ma'am: yes, ma'am.]\"\n\nThe way in which the penitents chimed in as Mrs. Wheaton proceeded\nrendered it impossible to report her fully. The best that could be\ndone was to catch sentences on the fly. The stronger she appeared to\nher colored listeners to seek for mercy the longer they sought it.\nTheir bodies were moved by their souls. Some swayed from side to side;\nothers placed their faces on their hands and wept; others wrung their\nhands, and there was weeping and wailing.\n\nThis was the state of affairs at the conclusion of the address. Just\nthen Deacon Banks started a hymn and a few others drifted off into\ndifferent familiar hymns, so that the music was varied. It was a\nspontaneous outburst of songs of praise from away down in the bottom\nof afflicted hearts which pays no attention to the measures of music.\nThe singing was awful. One female screeched and no two voices were in\nharmony.\n\nAt the conclusion of the hymn a deacon kneeling by a chair prayed,\nstriking the chair with his fists while a hundred voices accompanied\nhim. It was impossible to follow him throughout, but among other\nthings he said: \"I know that hell is broad and eternity too long. Oh\nKing, King, Lord have mercy on us. Guide us by the still water's side\nand give us new pastures. Bless this congregation in the hollow of thy\nhand, amen.\"\n\nMrs. Wheaton informed the News reporter that she will not go to\nGalveston.--Dallas News.\n\n\n                    PRISON WORKER VISITS TACOMA.\n\n          \"MOTHER\" WHEATON CALLS AT COUNTY JAIL AND FEDERAL\n              PENITENTIARY.--KNOWN ALL OVER THE WORLD.--\n                 TWENTY-ONE YEARS OF HER LIFE DEVOTED\n                     TO LABOR AMONG UNFORTUNATES\n                           OF MANY NATIONS.\n\n\"I trust in God and the railroad men.\"\n\nThis is the explanation of her ability to carry on her work, expressed\nby \"Mother\" Wheaton, the prison evangelist, who has an international\nreputation for her work in the penitentiaries of the United States,\nCanada, Mexico and Europe. Mother Wheaton is in Tacoma carrying on her\nwork among prisoners, work that has taken her into every penitentiary\nin the United States and Canada. For over twenty-one years she has\ncarried the gospel to the men in stripes and to those who wear the\nbroad arrow of England's displeasure, and it is Mother Wheaton's boast\nthat during all that time she has never asked for a contribution or\nreceived a cent of salary.\n\nMother Wheaton came to Tacoma from her headquarters in Tabor, Ia.,\naccompanying Miss Grace Yarrette, a young woman who is going as a\nmissionary to India.\n\n\n                      MANY YEARS IN PRISON WORK.\n\nThere is no woman in the world, and perhaps no man, who has had the\nprison experience of Mother Wheaton. The last twenty years of her life\nhave virtually been spent inside prison walls, and there is not many\nin the country in which she is not a familiar figure. Long terms and\nlifers all over the land know her. Frequently she inquires for some\nprisoner whom death or the leniency of the law has released, whom she\nhas not seen or heard of for years.\n\nDressed in a soft gray suit, with a gray bonnet, Mother Wheaton's\nappearance is distinctly motherly, and her smile the personification\nof kindness and tenderness further bears out the \"Mother\" by which she\nis known to thousands of unfortunates. She is the guest of Mrs. Ellen\nM. Bates, 1211 North Prospect street. She is at work from the time she\narises in the morning until services are over in the evening. While\nher principal work is in the prisons and penitentiaries she takes part\nin evangelical and religious work and finds time to visit rescue homes\nwhere her advice is eagerly sought.\n\n\n                          MANY EXPERIENCES.\n\n\"Experiences?\" Mother Wheaton exclaimed, when asked if her life had\nnot been productive of many events out of the ordinary run.\n\"Experiences, why I have had so many and such varied experiences that\nthey are all a jumble in my head. I have been in nearly every prison\nin the land. I have consoled men who were but a few feet from the\ngallows and I have held the hand of those unfortunates as they sank\ninto their last sleep in a cheerless prison hospital.\n\n\"I have seen sights that made my blood run cold and then I have had\nthe joy of seeing the word of God prevail and the most case-hardened\nsinners the human mind could conceive of have reformed before me. It\nhas been a curious mixture of sunshine and shadows, but after\ntwenty-one years I think I can say that the sunshine has predominated.\nI put my trust in God for my work and I trust the railroad men for\ntransportation, and between the two I believe I have been fairly\nsuccessful.\"\n\n\n                    ONCE TAKEN FOR CARRIE NATION.\n\n\"I have spent nights in the toughest slums of New York, Chicago and\nSt. Louis, places where men by force of habit always carry their hand\nnear their hip pocket, and I have not always been welcomed. Sometimes\nI have been roughly handled, yes, indeed. Why, one time I was mistaken\nfor Carrie Nation. Of course I don't look like Carrie Nation, and I\nwould never think of adopting smashing methods. I was holding services\nin San Pedro, California, one night, and went into a saloon. There\nwere two bright looking young men standing at the bar and I asked them\nto come with me. The owner of the saloon was sitting at a faro table\nin the back end of the saloon, and as soon as he caught sight of me he\nrushed at me and literally threw me out into the street.\n\n\"When he learned afterwards who I was he was very sorry and avowed\nthat he would never have treated me in that manner had he not thought\nthat I was Carrie Nation and that I had a hatchet to chop up his\nexpensive bar fixtures.\"\n\n\n                    OPPOSES CAPITAL PUNISHMENT.\n\n\"As sad an experience as I ever had in my life was my effort to save\nthe life of a young man who was condemned to hang in Colorado. I heard\nof the case through the young man's mother, who was heart-broken. I\ninterceded with Governor Peabody and secured a reprieve for a year,\nand when Governor McDonald took office he fixed the date for the\ndeath of the young man. I tried to save him the second time, but\npublic sentiment demanded his death. I don't believe in capital\npunishment. I have seen how a man can be punished in prison and I\ndon't believe in taking a life to avenge a life, for stripped of all\nthe specious arguments which surround capital punishment, it simmers\ndown to nothing more than revenge.\"\n\n\n                       ESTABLISHES NEW RECORD.\n\n\"I think I established a prison visiting record upon one trip. I\nvisited five penitentiaries in as many states in a week. I started at\nDeer Lodge, Montana; from there I went to Boise, Idaho; then to\nRawlins, Wyo.; then to Salt Lake City, and from Salt Lake City to\nLincoln, Nebraska, all of which I call pretty fast traveling. I hold\nmeetings on the train, in depots, at water tanks, any place I can\ngather a little knot of people together, and I could tell of some\nqueer conversions in out of the way places, the last places in the\nworld where you would expect the seed to sprout and bear fruit.\n\n\"I was over to the federal prison on McNeil's Island Saturday, and\nthis morning I went to the county hospital. This afternoon I called at\nthe county jail. I will be here a day or so longer and then must start\nEast, as I have work to do in New York City. You see I will have to\nstop at the prisons on the way back and I have to make allowances for\ndelays.\"\n\nMother Wheaton has become interested in Grace Russell, the young woman\nin the county jail, who is addicted to the use of morphine. Mother\nWheaton will try to secure a place for her in some home.--Tacoma,\nWashington, paper of July 31, 1905.\n\nI give the following extract from a Baltimore paper published while I\nwas there attending the Convocation of Prayer in that city, January,\n1903:\n\n\n               SPIRITUAL ADVISER OF FAMOUS CRIMINALS.\n\n        WORK OF \"MOTHER\" WHEATON IN PRISONS ALL OVER THE LAND.\n\nFor twenty years Mrs. Wheaton has been traveling throughout the United\nStates, Europe, Canada and Mexico, working among prisoners in hundreds\nof prisons and penitentiaries. On a number of occasions she has\nconverted criminals under death sentence. She has preached in the\nMaryland Penitentiary.\n\nMrs. Wheaton came to Baltimore direct from Ohio, where she had been\nholding prayer in the cells of the state prison with eight men\ncondemned to die. She was in San Francisco a number of years ago when\nAlexander Goldenson killed his sweetheart, Mamie Kelly, and after\nGoldenson had been tried, convicted and sentenced to death \"Mother\"\nWheaton prayed with him for forty days. The day of the execution,\nSeptember 14, 1888, he was converted through her instrumentality, and\njust before walking to the gallows she tied her silk handkerchief\nabout the condemned man's neck.\n\n\n                         IS NOT A STRANGER.\n\n OLD-TIMERS AT COUNTY JAIL GREET MRS. WHEATON AS LONG-TIME FRIEND.\n\nMrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton, of Tabor, Ia., famous in this and other\ncountries as a worker among the inmates of jails and penitentiaries,\nyesterday morning went to the county jail and prayed and sang hymns\nwith the prisoners in the tanks.\n\nAlthough her time was very much circumscribed, Mrs. Wheaton shook\nhands with most of the prisoners, many of whom had heard of her, and\nsome of whom had met her in other prisons. John King, awaiting his\ntransportation to Walla Walla, and one of the most admittedly\nprofessional criminals in the jail, stated that he had met \"Mother\nWheaton\" several times before, both at Salem and at Walla Walla.\n\nBoth he and J. H. Le Roy, another old-timer, had many anecdotes to\ntell of her kindnesses in past years.--Paper of August 9, 1905.\n\n     The above sketch was accompanied by a cut from protograph taken\n     by the reporter and a nicely finished photograph presented me.\n     From this photograph the cut was made that is inserted at the\n     beginning of this chapter.--E. R. W.\n\n\n                      PRISONERS ON BENDED KNEE.\n         INMATES OF COUNTY JAIL BOW IN PRAYER WITH MOTHER\n                               WHEATON.\n\nOn bended knees and with low bowed heads nine prisoners at the county\njail reverently followed a prayer addressed to the throne of grace in\ntheir behalf yesterday by Mother Wheaton, the noted prison evangelist.\nUnder the remarkable influence of the woman who came among them as a\nmessenger of soul-saving, every rough instinct of the men was quelled\nand every scoffing word hushed on their lips. No more devout prayer\nmeeting was ever held in a sanctuary than that which took place in the\njail corridor.\n\nMother Wheaton and a younger woman called upon the prisoners and sang\na song such as the men might have heard their mothers or sisters sing\nin the long ago, when their feet had not strayed from youthful paths\nof innocence. If there was any inclination to ridicule or make light\nof the service at the start, it was entirely subdued inside of five\nminutes. Mother Wheaton talked to the men and told of the work she has\nbeen doing for twenty years among the inmates of jails and\npenitentiaries. She declared that she and her assistant wanted to help\nsave them.\n\nThere was no hesitation whatever when Mother Wheaton asked the\nprisoners to get down on their knees. One and all, the nine assumed\nthe attitude of humble submission to the deity and remained in that\nposition until their patroness had finished her petition for the\npardoning of their sins. Some of the men were seen to blink\nsignificantly and wipe their eyes with handkerchiefs. When the prayer\nwas done and another hymn rendered, the men joining in, hands were\nshaken all around before the visitors departed.\n\nMother Wheaton has been coming to the Council Bluffs jail for\nseveral years. She was in the city on her way from Nevada to\nWisconsin.--_Council Bluffs Paper._\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER XXV.\n\n                     Furnished unto Every Good Work.\n\n\n    Who will man the life-boat, who the storm will brave?\n    Many souls are drifting helpless on the wave;\n    See their hands uplifted; hear their bitter cry:\n    \"Save us ere we perish, save us ere we die!\"\n\n    See! amid the breakers yonder vessel toss'd,\n    Onward to the rescue, haste, or all is lost;\n    Waves that dash around us cannot overwhelm,\n    While our faithful Pilot standeth at the helm.\n\n    Darker yet, and darker grows the fearful night,\n    Sound the trump of mercy, flash the signal light;\n    Bear the joyful message o'er the raging wave,\n    Christ, the heavenly Pilot, comes the lost to save.\n\n    Who will man the life-boat, who will launch away?\n    Who will help to rescue dying souls to-day?\n    Who will man the life-boat, who will breast the wave?\n    All its dangers braving, precious souls to save?\n\n                                                         --_Sel._\n\nThe dear Lord wants workers, both men and women, whom He can trust in\nevery line of Christian work, and what do Christians most need in\norder to be successful soul-winners for God?\n\nFirst of all, it is to be born of the Spirit; then to be filled with\nthe Holy Spirit, whereby we are sealed unto God. Then the fruits of\nthe Spirit will be manifest in our lives. Of course, we should not\npresume to go out as mission workers without a divine call from God.\n\nThe first thing, then, is to know God and then to know ourselves as\nutterly helpless without the cleansing power of the blood of Christ on\nour own souls. Then the especial anointing for service in the vineyard\nof the Lord. If to these be added a thorough knowledge of human\nnature and a sincere desire for the salvation of souls, then the glory\nof God will be revealed in us and we will be forgetful of self and\nalive to the needs of others. We must see men and women lost, going\ndown to eternal death and must reach them at any cost and be willing\nto gladly suffer the loss of all things that we might gain Christ and\nwin souls for Him.\n\nWe should acquire from the Lord the gift of adaptation to any and all\nkinds of work, people and places. We must see the people from their\nown standpoint and then from God's standpoint and then have implicit\nconfidence in God and in the power of the blood of Jesus to cleanse\nfrom all sin. We must be humble and meek and yet strong, through faith\nin God and His promises. Is anything too hard for the Lord? And has He\nnot told us, \"Greater works than these shall ye do because I go unto\nmy Father?\" Is He not at the Father's right hand, interceding for us\nand for the souls to whom He sends us?\n\nWe must be all things to all men that we might win some. We must watch\nfor opportunities for service and be quick to use them when they are\ngiven us. We must be ready to launch out into the deep at the Master's\ncommand. We must have grace, not only to serve, but if need be, to\ndie, in order that souls might be saved--souls that are going to\ndestruction for the want of a kind word or a helping hand at just the\nright time. I have often found them upon the verge of suicide. Men and\nwomen in despair, both in prison and outside, were goaded into\ndesperation and the enemy of their souls was urging them to end it\nall--that nobody cared, and God had forgotten them.\n\nHow glad I have been to clasp their hand and tell them there was One\nwho cared; that He loved them still and I have seen the long pent-up\ntears start from their eyes and hope has sprung up once more in their\ndesolate hearts. I hope to hear God say in the Day of Judgment of\nsome, \"Here are the discouraged, the tempted and tried ones, who were\nalmost lost, but who were won through your faithfulness.\" To God be\nall the glory.\n\nWe must not seek our own ease. Jesus, in the Garden of Gethsemane,\nwould have died in agony, only that an angel came and ministered unto\nHim, yet he prayed, \"Not My will, but Thine be done.\" Such must be our\nheartfelt cry and we must abandon ourselves to God's will in all\nthings and forgetting ourselves and the opinions of the World, seek to\nplease Him only. Then He will make even our enemies be at peace with\nus.\n\nMultitudes all about us are going down to despair for want of true\nlove such as Jesus had when He said, \"Father, forgive them, for they\nknow not what they do,\" and \"Neither do I condemn thee; go and sin no\nmore.\"\n\nHaving this spirit, God has promised to furnish us unto every good\nwork. That is, every work to which He calls us. We each have our\nresponsibility to meet, our especial capability, our gift or talent.\nThen let us adapt ourselves to the work which God has given us to\ndo--not ignoring the work of others, nor lording it over God's\nheritage, but each abiding in the calling wherein we are called,\nhaving charity for all, whether saints or sinners. Surely, with the\nfield so wide and the work so great, there is the greatest need for\nlove and the unity of the Spirit among all Christians. Why there are\nso many divisions, I know not. I find true and earnest hearts among\nall classes, all denominations and all nationalities.\n\nJesus prayed, before He ascended on high, for his children, that they\nall might be one as He and the Father were one--one in purpose and one\nin heart. If we manifest this oneness, sinners will come flocking home\nto God and souls will be saved and God will get all the glory. The\nlack of oneness among God's people stands in the way of souls and the\npoor and ignorant are at a loss as to what to think or believe.\n\nSurely, there was never greater need for Holy Ghost, Spirit-filled\nChristian workers than now, when false doctrine is proclaimed on every\nside and in every form. But let Christians unite, losing sight of\neverything but God and souls and it will not be long until God will\nfulfill his promise that a nation shall be born in a day. Oh, that\nthere might be a rallying of all of God's true children of every class\nand nationality; that they might, with united forces, charge upon the\nenemy and soon the world, which now seems to be at variance, would be\nwon for God and for our Christ.\n\nTHE MASSES ARE NOT REACHED through the ordinary channels of the\nchurches. Look at the need of the Gospel being carried to the railroad\nand street-car men, the soldiers, sailors, policemen, firemen, and\npostmen. Are we seeking to reach the people? We must get the love of\nGod in our hearts to that degree that we will not only be willing to\nsuffer, but to die for them, and mean it--mean business, and fast and\npray and call mightily on God for help and direction, and look to Him\nfor results. Don't expect an easy time--don't let us expect to be\nabove our Master. Jesus had no place to lay His head. He went among\nthe despised, the poor, the fallen, the lowest of earth; and if He\nwere to return now, how many of us would He find filling the places\nappointed us?\n\nThe Lord is ready to do exceeding abundantly above all we can think or\nask, and will bless every unselfish effort on our part to help save a\nlost world. When the end comes for you and me, dear one, let us have\nour lamps trimmed and burning, ready to go in to the marriage supper\nof the Lamb, which is to soon take place.\n\nGod help us do our part, to be instant in season and out of season; to\nkeep free in our souls; to be filled with the spirit of Jesus; to be\never ready with a kind word, a \"God bless you,\" a silent prayer, a\nwarm hand-clasp. Let us be quick to follow the leadings of the Holy\nSpirit, humbling ourselves under the mighty hand of God. Let us take a\nfirmer hold on God and be ourselves in His hands. Let us see our own\nresponsibility as God sees it, and by His grace measure up to it.\n\nThen the hosts of hell shall not be able to prevail against us and God\nwill use us to his glory, and with hearts filled with love and\ncompassion, we will go forward and God will go with us and give us\nvictory.\n\n\n                         MY BOY IN INDIA.\n\n     Some years ago the Lord made plain to me that I should support a\n     famine orphan in India, and since that time He has enabled me to\n     give twenty dollars per year for the support of my adopted son,\n     John Ryder Wheaton, named for my brother, who departed this life\n     a few years ago, and for myself. I give his picture and a copy of\n     his first letter to me, translated by one of the missionaries;\n     also some letters from Brother and Sister Jarvis, in charge of\n     the Orphanage in Lahore, India. We ask the prayers of our readers\n     for this dear boy, and if God should lay it upon any of your\n     hearts to provide for one of these famine orphans, any money sent\n     to the Missionary Home in Tabor, Iowa, will be promptly\n     forwarded to any orphanage or missionary you may designate. God\n     has laid this boy upon my heart, and the tie is dearer, perhaps,\n     because I am alone in the world, having laid my only child in the\n     grave with my husband. My heart was touched when I received this\n     letter from John's own hand, and sometimes I long to see and know\n     him for myself. He is being trained for a missionary, and when my\n     labors are ended, I hope to see him coming home from India,\n     bringing his trophies with him--precious souls from his own\n     native land, and that there we may praise the Lord through all\n     eternity together.\n\n     Lahore, Frontier Faith Mission, April 12, 1904.--Dear\n     Mama:--Salam, I am well by the grace of Lord Jesus Christ, and\n     hope you are well. Matter is this that I live here very happy,\n     few days ago that the fever and cough attacked me so I went to\n     the hospital, now I am well and do my duty. I learned the work of\n     Gardener. I pray every day. May God help me and make me His true\n     Christian and grant me abundant grace. I also hope that you do\n     pray for me. I pray for you. Here are all well. I am also with\n     other boys well. My compliment to you,\n\n                          Your son,\n                                                  JOHN WHEATON,\n                                                   Head Gardener.\n\n[Illustration: JOHN RYDER WHEATON, INDIA FAMINE BOY.]\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n     Frontier Faith Mission and Orphanage, Lahore, N. India, Dec. 11,\n     1901.--Dear Sister Wheaton--We have chosen for you a bright\n     little boy by the name of Ruthena, about ten years old. He is one\n     of our brightest little boys, one that bids fair to be something\n     for God. He is a shoemaker by trade and is doing well at it. We\n     are endeavoring to teach the boys trades, wanting them to be like\n     Paul where they can preach the Gospel while they make tents for a\n     living. Ruthena is a bright boy in every way and will be named\n     John Ryder as you wished. We do not have time to write often but\n     our hearts are with you.\n\n                         Yours for India's redemption,\n                                                 LAURA E. JARVIS.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n     Lahore, N. India, Sept. 18, 1902.--My Dear Sister--Your dear boy\n     is healthy and well. He is such a help, and seems to know just\n     what to do at the right time. We feel that we can count on him at\n     all times. He is a precious Christian boy, and God is using him.\n\n     God is blessing our precious children, and the work is going\n     forward. We are so glad to be on our own land. Our homes are only\n     temporary, but our faith is in God for the permanent ones. He\n     says no good thing will He withhold from them that walk\n     uprightly.\n\n                   Your Sister seeking the lost,\n                                                         L. E. J.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n     Lahore, North India, August 20, 1903.--Dear Sister Wheaton--Your\n     kind offering of twenty dollars for the support of your boy,\n     John, is very thankfully received. The Lord bless and repay you.\n     Continue to pray for him, and for the rest of our great family.\n     God is hearing prayer for us. There are some slight fever cases\n     among the children. This is our sickly season. Unite in prayer\n     that our workers may keep well. We are all burdened because of\n     the lack of workers and much has to remain undone.\n\n     Though burdened, we will stand at our post until Jesus comes. (R.\n     V.) Our faith is in God. So many young people at home seem to be\n     wasting their lives and talents, when they might be doing so much\n     for God in this land.\n\n                   Your brother seeking the lost,\n                                                   ROBERT JARVIS.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Lahore, N. India, March 16, 1904.\n\n     My Dear Sister Wheaton--Greetings in Jesus' name. \"Lift up your\n     eyes, and look on the fields, for they are white already to\n     harvest.\"\n\n     I write to tell you today that your boy John is quite poorly. He\n     has been having an attack of lung fever. I believe that in answer\n     to prayer God will raise him up. I felt he would have better care\n     in the hospital than we could give him, so we took him there, but\n     we go to see him frequently, and I will keep you posted as to how\n     he is doing. I know you are interested and are praying for him.\n     We thank you much for your interest, and all you are doing for\n     him. I hope you are keeping well and seeing souls saved.\n\n     John was a real help in the garden outside of school hours. He\n     has always been a willing little worker. God bless you much, dear\n     Sister Wheaton, and use you greatly, is our prayer.\n\n                               Your sister,\n                                                    L. E. JARVIS.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                Lahore, N. India, April 12, 1904.\n\n     My Dear Sister Wheaton--Greeting in Jesus' name. I am glad to\n     write you this time that John is all right again. I think his\n     sickness has drawn him closer to God. He is writing you a few\n     lines that I will translate for him and send it with this.\n\n                       Yours to be faithful,\n                                                    L. E. JARVIS.\n\n\n                    PREACHING IN THE PEST-HOUSE.\n\nJust why the dear Lord saw best to permit me to take the loathsome\ndisease of smallpox into my system, I know not; but I do know the same\nGod that made man and pronounced him very good, permitted Job and many\nothers of His people to suffer many things. Of one thing I am certain,\nthe Lord permitted me to preach the Gospel in the pest-house. No one\nwas allowed there but the physician of the Board of Health and those\nin charge, and there were many lost ones there and no gospel services\nfor years and not even the superintendent and his family were allowed\nto go to church. I had held meetings in almost every other place and I\nnow had opportunity to go there, this being the only way to get to\nthem. During the summer of 1901 I was taken very ill and the sixth\ndoctor pronounced the disease smallpox. There was no alternative but\nto prepare for the hospital, which I did unaided. This was\nremarkable; for I had been very near death, the suffering both\nmentally and physically was so intense and the agony so great. Surely\nGod heard the prayers of His believing ones and raised me up to once\nmore go forth to glorify His name by preaching His gospel and singing\nHis praises. Bless His holy name!\n\nI was hedged in with God. He got the glory of my healing. I bless the\nLord that in answer to prayer He never let one person take the disease\nfrom me that we knew of. When leaving the minister's home where I was\ntaken sick, I was shouting and praising the Lord. I told the mission\nworkers I was sure I could go to Heaven even from the pest-house, with\nthe smallpox. I told the young sister with me to bring the tracts for\nservice in the hospital. I had told her that morning that there would\nbe several doctors call and hold a consultation and pronounce the\ndisease smallpox and they would take me to the pest-house, and I\nexpected I would die there. I had such victory in my soul that I just\nshouted and praised the Lord.\n\nIn the hospital I was given the privilege of all the wards to sing and\npray and talk with the patients. Some were in a very dangerous\ncondition, and others convalescent. Others were trembling with fear,\nhaving been exposed and quarantined here to protect the public from\ncontagion. Those were weeks of suffering, although full of service and\nsong. The hymns were listened to with the greatest delight even by\nforeigners who could not understand our language. I often wonder why\nprofessing Christians are not as careful about the spread of sin as\npeople are about the transmitting of disease. The same day I left the\nhospital the Lord sent me out on a long journey to preach the gospel\non the train. As I was talking with the conductor, there was a sudden\nstop and he ran to find the cause. Our engine had become disabled on a\nbridge, and as a train was coming behind us, the trainmen ran to flag\nthe coming train before it should overtake us; but it was too late. I\ndropped on my knees on the platform of the rear car and asked God to\nspare our lives. I arose, took in the situation, went to my seat in\nthe center of the car and again knelt in prayer. I turned to look just\nas the engine struck our car, raising it about five feet in the air,\ncrushing timbers and glass, and causing a panic among the passengers.\nI was blest of God through it all, and went immediately to work\nholding meetings while we waited some hours for help to come. I see so\nplainly the hand of the Lord in all this. I might have left the train\nwhen on the rear platform, but I felt impressed to stay with those on\nboard and call on God for help. Do you wonder that when all our lives\nwere spared I felt that as the Lord gave all on the ship into Paul's\nhands, so in this case, as in many others, the wise Master gave me\nthose who traveled with me? \"As thy days so shall thy strength be.\" \"A\nthousand shall fall at thy side and ten thousand at thy right hand,\nbut it shall not come nigh thee.\"\n\n\n                        HOW THE LORD PROVIDES.\n\nOne night in San Francisco while holding a meeting in the Old Adelphi\nTheater, I was impressed to give a dollar to a sister who often sang\nand exhorted in our service and who assisted me that night. At the\nclose of the meeting I handed her a silver dollar. She seemed much\nsurprised and said, \"No, I should not take this from you.\" I told her\nGod showed me to give her that dollar and I must obey Him; so she took\nthe money.\n\nThe next day, while waiting for the street car on a public\nthoroughfare, I saw a man giving out ladies' fashion plates. I spoke\nkindly to him and suggested how much more good he could do by giving\nout tracts. He replied that that was the way he made his living--that\nthe firm paid him for his services. I told him that God would care for\nhim if he only trusted and served Him, but he evidently thought me\nsomewhat of a fanatic. Just then a well-dressed old gentleman spoke to\nme and said, \"Do you belong to the Salvation Army?\" I said that I did\nnot and he then asked, \"What is your work?\" I answered, \"I am a\nmissionary to the prisoners and lost girls.\" He handed me a dollar and\nhurried on. The man with whom I had been speaking looked on surprised\nand said, \"Who was that man?\" I said, \"I do not know; I never saw him\nbefore and may never see him again.\" He was evidently thinking, for I\nhad told him that God provided for me and would provide for him if he\nwould but work for Him, and God was giving him an object lesson. I\nsaid, \"I believe the Lord sent that man to convince you that what I\nsaid was true for I never ask any person for money, but trust all to\nProvidence.\"\n\nGoing on my way later in the day, outside the city where I changed\ncars, I saw hurrying toward me the same man who had given me the\ndollar in the morning. He said, \"I have been thinking all day about\nyou and what you said and here is another dollar for you.\" I told him\nhow I felt God had used him to convince the fashion plate man, that if\nwe fully trust and serve the Lord He will provide for us. I have never\nseen either of these men again since that day, but God sent me the two\ndollars in place of the one dollar I had given that poor woman the\nnight before, in the meeting.\n\nThe sequel was given me sometime after this when I again met that poor\nsister. She said to me, \"Sister Wheaton, I want to tell you about the\ndollar you gave me that night in the meeting,\" and then she said: \"I\nhad nothing in my house for my children to eat (there was a large\nfamily of them), and husband was out of work. I had to wash next day\nand had neither soap nor starch, and I had to go across the city to\npray for a sick woman, whose son had said that he would believe in God\nand serve him if his mother were healed in answer to prayer. I had to\ntake that young man with me and pay his car fare and my own. The\nmother was healed and the young man, being convinced, yielded himself\nto God and was converted and became a Christian.\" And then she added,\n\"All this your dollar did, for I had prayed God to send me a dollar\nthat night and you obeyed God and see what was accomplished through\nobedience to the God who hears the ravens when they cry and notes the\nsparrow's fall.\"\n\nThen I related to her my experience to show how the Lord used a\nstranger to return me double, or two dollars instead of one, and\nperhaps saved two men--for God was evidently dealing both with the\nstranger who gave me the money and with the one with whom I was\nspeaking on the street.\n\n\n                      MISCELLANEOUS INCIDENTS.\n\nI was once called upon to minister to the needs of a woman who was\nburned almost to death. I assisted the doctor as best I could to dress\nthe burns. I took the scissors and cut the loose flesh from her arm,\nand held her while the doctor filed the rings from her hands.\n\nIf I had not been previously convinced by the Scriptures of the folly\nof wearing rings I think this awful sight would have been sufficient\nto satisfy any doubts in my mind, as they cut so cruelly deep into the\ncharred and swollen flesh. She finally passed away to that land where\nthere shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither\nshall there be any more pain.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhile being entertained at a certain place a few years ago, a caller\nwas announced one evening, to see \"Mother Wheaton.\" Entering the\nparlor a tall, handsome man, dressed in the uniform of a policeman,\nadvanced to greet me. I bowed politely, but perhaps a little\ndistantly, as I did not know him. He came forward and extended his\nhand cordially, saying, \"Don't you know me, Mother?\" I said, \"No, I do\nnot know you.\" He said \"I sang in ----prison in the choir. I served a\nterm there and heard you sing and preach there. This is my daughter,\"\nand he presented a nice looking young lady who was with him. He said\nhe now held a responsible position and was getting along nicely, and\ninvited me to come and visit his family.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhile holding meetings in a little town in one of the southern states,\nI was entertained at the home of a wealthy man who was accused of\ncrime. He had a beautiful wife and lovely children. I was greatly\ntroubled about his condition. I held meetings there in the home. I was\ntreated very kindly and cordially welcomed, but he would not yield to\nGod. I warned him faithfully, and plead with him to repent of his sins\nand become a Christian. I told him that a terrible calamity awaited\nhim if he did not yield himself to the Lord. I went away believing it\nwas his last chance of salvation. Not long after that he laid in wait\nto kill a man against whom he had had a grudge for some time; but the\nother man seeing his intention, drew his revolver and fired in\nself-defence. The man fell dead. He had had his last call. He had\nrejected the Lord and was ushered into eternity without a moment's\nwarning.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\nOne day years ago, in M----, Mississippi, I went on the street to hold\na meeting. A policeman came along and forbade me after I had begun to\nsing, saying it was against the law to hold religious services on the\nstreet. My spirit was grieved as I felt the Lord had a work for me to\ndo among the poor and lowly who were too poorly clad to attend church\nservices. A sister (a woman of God who entertained me) was with me.\nShe then proposed taking me to see a sick child, an infant. When we\nreached the house we found the young parents weeping over their dying\nchild. My heart was touched with sympathy, and kneeling down I asked\nHim who said, \"Suffer little children to come unto me,\" to heal the\nchild for His glory. I believed His word where it says, \"The prayer of\nfaith shall save the sick.\" My faith touched divinity, the child was\nhealed and the young parents, seeing the power of God manifested, were\nconverted, and gave their lives to God for His service.\n\n[Illustration: Height Out Arms Trunk Head Length Head Width Cheek\nWidth Ear Foot Length Finger L. Fore-arm Color of Eyes Marks & Scars\n\nBERTILLON MEASUREMENTS]\n\n[Illustration: PRISON AT ANAMOSA, IOWA. 1. FEMALE DEPARTMENT. 2. CELL\nHOUSE. 3. MAIN ENTRANCE.]\n\n\n\n\n                            CHAPTER XXVI.\n\n                     Selections from My Scrap Book.\n\n\nMany of the selections given in this chapter were written by prisoners\nand given me by them. The others may not all be new to the reader, but\nI have thought them of sufficient value to thus preserve, as they may\nbe reread with profit, and no doubt may be read here by many who have\nnot seen them elsewhere. Such will surely feel the time it takes to\nread them well spent.\n\nMany of the songs I have sung are not in print here, as they are\nfamiliar or may be found in popular books; others I thought might be\ncopyrighted and I do not know the owner, etc. I have not meant to use\nany copyright selections without procuring the right to do so, but if\nthrough mistake any have been used I shall be glad to make due\nrequital.\n\n\n                 THE AUTHOR OF FLOWER MISSION DAY.\n\nI once visited this sister, a saint, meekly lying upon her bed, and\nwhen I asked if she would like for Jesus to heal her, she said God\ncould use her better in that condition.\n\n                                                         E. R. W.\n\n     Jennie Cassady was born in Louisville, Kentucky, June 9, 1840.\n     She came to earth through no royal line of ancestry. No booming\n     cannon and flying flags proclaimed the birth of a princess. No\n     jeweled hand beckoned her to a place of rank and title. Nothing\n     in babyhood or girlhood distinguished her above what is visible\n     in ten thousand homes to-day. But as she stepped over the\n     threshold into womanhood, there fell upon her a great calamity--a\n     cruel accident made her a cripple and an invalid for life. But in\n     her afflictions she arose to a sublimity and sweetness of soul\n     that has challenged the admiration of two continents. And out of\n     the awful shadows that fell upon her she has gathered up the\n     sunbeams of God's smiles and scattered them into the dark places\n     of earth. Out of that one little darkened room in Kentucky there\n     has gone forth an inspiration that has fired the heart of heroic\n     Christian womanhood. And out of the darkness that smote her\n     pathway leaped the lances of light that pierces the gloom of\n     prison walls. A gleam from that radiant life touches the poet's\n     fancy, and gives us these beautiful lines.\n\n                                                J. M. CROCKER,\n                                                 Prison Chaplain.\n\n\n                       FLOWER DAY AT THE PRISON.\n\nComposed and read by F. L. Platt at the Iowa State Prison at Anamosa,\n                           June 9th, 1894.\n\n    In a cottage in Kentucky,\n      In the years that have gone by,\n    Was a woman, oh, so lonely,\n      She'd been given up to die.\n\n    As she lay upon her sick bed,\n      Ere the spark of life had flown,\n    Neighbors called, and strangers also,\n      Whom before she had not known.\n\n    They had heard of her misfortune,\n      Day and night she lingered there;\n    And to make her life more cheerful\n      Seemed to be their every care.\n\n    Now they come, with noiseless footsteps,\n      As the rose is kissed with dew,\n    Each one bringing in some sunshine,\n      In \"these flowers I've brought for you.\"\n\n    As she looked into their faces,\n      Realizing death had come,\n    \"Take these flowers,\" she said, \"I'm dying,\"\n      They will brighten other homes.\n\n    Take them, give them to the children\n      Who in orphans' homes are found,\n    Who have parents silent sleeping\n      Underneath some grassy mound.\n\n    Take them, place them by the bedside\n      Of some one whose life is drear;\n    They will bring a ray of sunshine,\n      They will drive away a tear.\n\n    Take them, bear them to the prison,\n      Where the trembling convict stands;\n    They'll encourage and they'll cheer him,\n      And they'll help him be a man.\n\n    They will speak to him of Heaven,\n      Of a home with God above;\n    They'll dispel the gloom and heartache,\n      They'll recall a mother's love.\n\n    They'll remind him of a sister,\n      With youth's bloom upon her brow,\n    With whom he used to gather flowers\n      When life was bright as yours is now.\n\n    They'll recall some little sweetheart\n      In the early spring of life,\n    Who, when summer flowers were blooming,\n      He had asked to be his wife.\n\n    Oh, that wife! may God's own blessing\n      Rest upon her loyal head;\n    Though he's caused her many a heartache,\n      She would love him were he dead.\n\n    Then with all these sacred memories\n      Welling in these hearts of ours,\n    Who in all this land of sunshine\n      Could forbid this gift of flowers?\n\n    Bring the flowers with sweetest perfume,\n      This is flower mission day;\n    Some forlorn, discouraged prisoner,\n      \"You may rescue, you may save.\"\n\n    Blest the home that knows no sorrow,\n      Blest that wife, whose tears are joy,\n    Blest that mother who in old age,\n      Can lean upon her darling boy.\n\n    Men, look up, the clouds have gathered,\n      Some of them are silver-lined;\n    There's a day when all creation\n      Will be marshalled into line.\n\n    When these prison walls are sundered;\n      When the grave gives up its dead,\n    All may march the streets of Heaven\n      Who by Jesus Christ are led.\n\n\n                   LINES BY A PRISONER TO HIS WIFE.\n\nThese lines were handed me by the author. I insert them here because\nof their clear testimony to the saving grace of God and the love they\nmanifest for wife and children:\n\n    Dearest wife, you know I love thee,\n      Deep as yonder sky;\n    Know that love can never fade,\n      Affection never die.\n\n    Though in prison I am cast,\n      And cannot now return,\n    Yet on thee my love reclines,\n      For thee my heart will burn.\n\n    God has made us one indeed,\n      In ways the world can never know.\n    One, like drops of water found\n      Within the pure white snow.\n\n    God has made us one indeed;\n      Has joined us, hand and heart;\n    What God has joined together, wife,\n      Let no man put apart.\n\n    As well might men uproot the earth\n      As by their scoff or scorn\n    Think to accomplish parting us\n      Because our hearts now mourn.\n\n    Nay, dear wife, I feel for thee,\n      As ne'er I felt before,\n    Prizing thee with deeper strength\n      For pining sad and sore.\n\n    While there you wait my glad release,\n      The day that sets me free,\n    Await my coming home to wife;\n      Yes, wife and children three.\n\n    And I will come. Have patience, wife,\n      The time will wear away,\n    And day by day approaches near\n      That glad releasing day.\n\n    With little baby in your arms,\n      Two others at your knee;\n    I know, dear wife, your heart is sad\n      And longs to see me free.\n\n    To help you in your daily toil;\n      To earn for them their bread;\n    To clothe and help and comfort them,\n      And find a shelter for each head.\n\n    But cheer up, wife, and so will I,\n      As mankind surely may,\n    Till darkness fade in morning light\n      That ushers in the day.\n\n    And oh, what joy will visit us,\n      What peace in that glad hour;\n    Our home shall then renew its strength\n      In all its silent power.\n\n    Here as I lay me down to sleep,\n      In my narrow little cell,\n    I think of the happy times we've spent\n      In the shady wooded dell.\n\n    How we plucked the flowers beside our path,\n      And strolled along the stream,\n    Neither feeling aught of sorrow,\n      For life was like a pleasant dream.\n\n    But alas, my dear one, all is changed;\n      And we are parted now for years;\n    But well we know that God will come\n      And wipe away our falling tears.\n\n    Sin, dear wife, hast brought the change;\n      Sin has caused our grief and pain;\n    But now that I trust in Jesus\n      I will never fall again.\n\n    In my very darkest moments\n      Would you know what comforts me?\n    'Tis my living faith in Jesus,\n      In Him who died on Calvary.\n\n    He died on the cross for you, dear wife,\n      His precious blood was shed for me;\n    All our sins on Him were laid\n      When they nailed Him to the tree.\n\n    And now that blessed Saviour,\n      Who was born at Bethlehem,\n    Looks down from the heights of heaven\n      On the sinful souls of men.\n\n    His thoughts are full of mercy,\n      His heart is filled with love.\n    He is pleading with the Father\n      That we might come above.\n\n    So we will trust our Saviour,\n      And follow where He leads;\n    And say, in faith believing,\n      He'll provide for all our needs.\n\n    So we'll walk close beside Him\n      And let Him take our hand;\n    As He points, with face all shining,\n      To that bright and happy land.\n\n    And oft to others round us\n      The story we will tell,\n    How Jesus Christ saves sinners,\n      The heavenly hosts to swell.\n\n    You will tell them, wife, how He found me,\n      Sinful and all cast down,\n    And how through love He raised me up\n      And promised me a crown.\n\n    And when we see still others\n      Caught in Satan's snare,\n    We'll lead them on to Jesus,\n      And leave them in His care.\n\n    And when He treats them gently,\n      As He treats both you and me,\n    Other sinners, looking on,\n      To His bosom soon will flee.\n\n    For thus the world around us\n      For Christ could soon be won;\n    He'll end in glorious triumph\n      The work He has begun.\n\n    All glory then to Jesus!\n      Sing praises to His name!\n    He saved lost sinners years gone by,\n      And today He'll do the same.\n\n    In language very simple\n      I've told to you, dear wife,\n    My love to you, your love to me,\n      And the love of Jesus Christ.\n\n    So we'll just keep on trusting\n      In the Saviour God has given;\n    And He will fill with peace\n      Our journey on to heaven.\n\n    And we'll not forget the Father,\n      But give thanks for all He's done,\n    In giving us our Saviour,\n      In His own beloved Son.\n\n\n                             WOMAN'S LOVE.\n\n                           TO MRS. WHEATON.\n\nThese lines are most respectfully presented as a prisoner's tribute of\nsincere respect:\n\n    O, woman's love, past understanding!\n      So near to God's, so wondrous deep:\n    Deep as the depths of space; expanding\n      Till it blooms beyond death's mystic sleep\n\n    Throughout the earth, the rich and lowly\n      It reigns supreme within her breast.\n    O, woman's love! through its beauty holy\n      She will win eternal rest.\n\n    Born of woman, purest, dearest\n      Lily of fair Bethlehem,\n    Christ to her will be the nearest\n      In his bright home--Jerusalem.\n\n    A fadeless flower in beauty blooming\n      'Midst heaven's host of immortelles.\n    His peerless love her soul perfuming\n      She'll reign a queen mid arch angels\n\n                                     J. W. L.\n\nCole City, Ga., Sunday night, Nov. 17, 1889.\n\n\n       TAKE THIS MESSAGE TO MY MOTHER.\n\n    (Written by a Prisoner in Jackson, Miss.)\n\n    Take this message to my mother,\n      It will fill her heart with joy;\n    Tell her that her prayer is answered,\n      Christ has saved her wandering boy:\n\n    Tho' through sin from home I've wandered,\n      And I almost broke her heart;\n    Tell her to be glad and cheerful,\n      Never from the Lord I'll part.\n\n    CHORUS.\n\n    Take this message to my mother,\n      It will fill her heart with joy;\n    Tell her that her prayer is answered,\n      Christ has saved her wandering boy.\n\n    How she wept when last we parted,\n      How her heart did ache with pain\n    When she said: \"Good-bye, God bless you,\n      We may never meet again.\"\n\n    O my boy, just look to Jesus,\n      What a friend He is to all!\n    Only trust Him, He will save you--\n      Can't you hear His sweet voice call?\n\n    In this world of sin are many\n      Who have wandered far from God.\n    Will your mother's prayers be answered?\n      Listen, sinner, you, her boy.\n\n    You have ofttimes heard this warning,\n      In your heart conviction's deep;\n    God is calling to the wanderer\n      Who asks mercy at his feet.\n\n\n             NOT LONELY NOW.\n\n    I am not lonely, mother, now,\n      Though far from me you roam.\n    One dried my tears and smoothed my brow,\n      And stilled the sob and groan.\n    I am not lonely, mother, dear,\n    For Jesus dwells with me, e'en here.\n\n    All day I feel Him by my side;\n      And when betimes would come\n    The Evil One, I quickly hide\n      Behind my Precious One.\n    Think you I'm lonely, mother, dear,\n    When Jesus thus is ever near?\n\n    And when at night I think of thee,\n      As in my cell I sit,\n    Bright vision of thy form I see\n      By His own presence lit.\n    Can I be lonely, mother, dear,\n    When thy pure spirit is so near?\n\n    Farewell, my darling mother-friend,\n      And if for aye, Oh! fare thee well!\n    Whate'er betide, unto the end,\n      Christ's love for me I'll gladly tell.\n\nThe following was written by a young brother who, with his wife, were\nwith me for a time in my work. In thanking them for a kindness done me\nI used the words, \"Jesus is looking on,\" implying that He would reward\nthem. Only an hour or so afterward the young brother handed me these\nlines, suggested by my words:\n\nLittle did I think when I spoke the words that they would make so deep\nan impression upon his mind. How little we realize what a word may\ndo.\n\n                        JESUS IS LOOKING ON.\n\n     \"The eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous and his ears are\n     open unto their cry.\" Ps. 34.\n\n        [TUNE, \"ARE YOU WITHIN THE FOLD TONIGHT?\"]\n\n    1.  While traveling as a pilgrim\n          Across life's desert drear,\n        My feet ofttimes are weary,\n          Mine eyes oft drop a tear;\n        But when I look to Jesus,\n          All weariness is gone,\n        My heart then joys within me\n          To know He's looking on.\n\n                  CHORUS.\n\n        Yes, He is ever looking on,\n          With anxious ear our cry to hear.\n        He hears each sigh,\n          He sees each tear;\n        He knows each heart \"with sorrow riven,\"\n          He hears each word of joy or moan,\n        And whispers gently in our ear,\n          I'm looking, looking on.\n\n    2.  When troubles rage around me,\n          And trials fiery come,\n        My thoughts are then directed\n          To my eternal home.\n        Though walking on the mountain,\n          Or on the verdant lawn,\n        This is the thought that cheers me,\n          He's always looking on.\n\n    3.  When friends do turn against me,\n          And frown and persecute,\n        I'm then brought nearer Jesus,\n          Than when my foes are mute.\n        While Jesus walks beside me,\n          His arm I'll lean upon,\n        And ne'er forget the promise,\n          He's always looking on.\n\n    4.  Take courage, brother pilgrim,\n          And let us journey on,\n        For soon life's many trials\n          Will all have passed and gone;\n        Then sweeping up to glory\n          We'll join the ransomed throng,\n        And sing God's endless praises,\n          While He is looking on.\n\n\n                  HOW GOD CALLS MISSIONARIES OUT OF\n                            PRISON CELLS.\n\n                            S. H. HADLEY.\n\n           _Superintendent of the Old McAuley Mission._\n\nSome of the best missionaries this world ever knew are men who have\nbeen sentenced to long terms in prison. Wholly shut away from the\nworld and its dreadful temptations, God had a chance to speak to them.\nJerry McAuley was a wonderful example of this, and that drunken loafer\nand thief was finally used so wonderfully by the Lord God that his\nname has gone all over this world and has been an inspiration to\nmillions. He was sent to prison from the Fourth Ward of New York for\nfifteen years at the age of nineteen.\n\nOne Sunday morning in the chapel the speaker was old \"Awful\" Gardener,\nan old-time ruffian and prize-fighter in New York, but God had got\nhold of him and he had been wonderfully saved. With tears streaming\ndown his face, he told of the love of Christ, and he said, \"Boys, I\nought to be wearing the stripes the same as you are, and I feel a deep\nsympathy for you.\"\n\nHe also quoted some verses from the Scriptures, and after the boys had\ngone back to their cells Jerry found a Bible in the ventilator of his\ncell, and, looking it over aimlessly, tried to find the text that\n\"Awful\" Gardener had quoted, but instead he found that Christ came to\nsave sinners, and the Holy Spirit showed him his dreadful past life.\nAs the day grew into night, Jerry got down on his knees and began to\npray. He had never prayed before, but now he cried to God for help and\nmercy. How long he was there he does not know, but some time during\nthe night a glorious light dispelled the deep darkness of his soul,\nand he cried out, \"Oh, praise God, I found Jesus, and He gives peace\nto my soul.\" The unusual sound brought the keeper, who asked, \"What is\nthe matter with you?\"\n\nJerry answered, \"I found Jesus, that's what's the matter with me.\"\n\nHe found some opportunities to breathe out the new-found hopes of his\nsoul and the love of Jesus to the prisoners about him. Soon a revival\nbroke out in the prison such as never had been seen before or since,\nand Jerry was the center of it all. He was pardoned in 1864, but when\nhe got home he had no friends, no money, and he soon fell into bad\ncompany, and got to be a worse scoundrel than he ever was before. It\nwas after this he became known as the dangerous East River pirate. He\nwas reclaimed in 1868, and although he fell five times after that\nduring the first eight or nine months, he was finally anchored to\nChrist.\n\nDo you know that every drunkard uses tobacco? Jerry was no exception.\nSome faithful friends said to him. \"Jerry, give up your tobacco for\nJesus' sake,\" and he gave it up, and then he never fell afterward.\n\nHe was afterward married to Maria, his faithful wife, who also was\nredeemed from a drunkard's life, and in 1872 opened the world-renowned\nMcAuley Mission, at 316 Water Street, down on the East Side, nearly\nunder the Brooklyn Bridge.\n\nHe stayed here ten years, and then opened the Cremorne Mission,\nThirty-second Street and Sixth Avenue, where he died in 1884, and had\nthe largest funeral of any private citizen who was ever buried in New\nYork.\n\nThe writer succeeded Jerry McAuley down there, and the work is going\non night and day. Drunkards and thieves come in by the thousand, and,\nthank God, many of them are saved unto life eternal. The writer is\nalso a convert of Jerry McAuley Mission.--_The Life Boat._\n\n\n             OUTSIDE THE PRISON WALLS.\n\n    Free, free at last he left the dreary jail,\n      And stepped into the dewy April night;\n    Once more he breathed, untainted, God's pure air,\n      And saw the evening star's sweet trembling light.\n    How strange! how strange! and yet how strangely dear\n      The old familiar turf beneath his feet!\n    How wonderful once more to be alone\n      Unwatched, unguarded, 'neath the sky's broad sweep.\n\n    Free! free again--but O, so old and worn--\n      So weary with his wasted, ruined life--\n    Full twenty years the cell, his only home--\n      Full twenty years with hopeless misery rife!\n    His thoughts sped backward till they reached that day\n      When he had entered that grim house, a boy--\n    Naught but a boy in stature and in years,\n      But with a heart all bare of hope and joy.\n\n    For in a dreadful moment, crazed with rum,\n      His hand had laid a fellow creature low,\n    And for that glass of brandy in his brain\n      Full twenty years of wretchedness and woe.\n    And now, a gray-haired man, he walked again\n      The very path his boyish feet had pressed\n    So many, many years ago;\n      And now he wandered lonely, seeking rest.\n\n    Where should he go? Where now his footsteps turn?\n      No living soul was there to welcome him!\n    No friend of all his youthful days he knew\n      Would greet again this wanderer in sin.\n    Unconsciously, he sought his boyhood's home,\n      The low, white cottage he had held so dear;\n    'Twas standing in its old accustomed place,\n      But strangers had dwelt there for many a year.\n\n    Where next? The tears stood in his mournful eyes;\n      His breath came thick and fast--he could not stir,\n    But leaned upon the old familiar gate\n      With thoughts of mother--O, could he find her?\n    Where was she now--that mother, sweet and good,\n      Who tried with tears and prayers to save her boy,\n    Who knelt alone at midnight's solemn hour\n      And mourned for him who should have been her joy.\n\n    His faltering steps at last he vaguely turned\n      Unto the silent churchyard near the sea,\n    And stood alone while pitying moonbeams spread\n      Around his form a veil of charity.\n    Alone with God in that still, solemn place,\n      Alone with hundreds of the silent dead,\n    The outcast stood with lowly, sin-sick heart,\n      The cold night dew upon his drooping head.\n\n    At last he found her in a place apart,\n      Where moonbeams sparkled through the willow boughs,\n    And shone upon her simple headstone white\n      That marked the limit of her narrow house.\n    'Twas but a snowy marble, simple, plain,\n      That bore her name, her age, and just below--\n    \"Died of a broken heart\"--alas! he knew\n      The cause of all that life and death of woe.\n\n    He flung himself face down upon the grass,\n      Alone between the living and the dead,\n    And wept and prayed beside the lonely grave\n      Until in sorrow's slumber sunk his head.\n    They found him in the morning, stiff and cold,\n      His hands clasped o'er his mother's lowly grave,\n    His head upon its turf, as though he thought\n      That turf the bosom his poor heart had craved.\n\n    Upon his pallid cheeks the trace of tears\n      Showed in the glowing ray of morning's sun,\n    But o'er that face there shone a wondrous peace,\n      A smile of joy now all his life was done.\n    Men marveled that he looked so young again\n      Despite his crown of sorrow-silvered hair,\n    And tender-hearted women sighed and wept\n      And smiled to think that they had found him there.\n    Ah! God is good! with loving tenderness\n      He saw the sad, repentant soul alone\n    Weep out his sin upon his mother's grave,\n      And gently led the weary wanderer home.\n    This we believe: That now in Heaven's street\n      The mother and her son are reconciled,\n    And all the pain and sin of earth below\n      Are blotted out, and he is God's own child.\n\n               --_Hattie F. Crocker, in Union Signal._\n\n\n               IF WE KNEW.\n\n    If we knew the heart's sad sighing\n      In the secret hour;\n    If we knew the bitter crying\n      O'er the tempter's power,\n    Slower would we be to censure,\n      Kinder in reproof;\n    From the erring, peradventure,\n      We would not stand aloof.\n\n    If we knew the hard, stern struggle\n      Of the one who fell,\n    Toiling on 'mid grief and trouble\n      That none but God can tell,\n    Our thoughts, perhaps, would be kinder,\n      Our help more pitiful--\n    Be of God's love a reminder\n      To the tempted soul.\n\n    If we knew the fierce temptation,\n      Could we feel the pain\n    Of the deep humiliation,\n      The tears shed all in vain,\n    We, perchance, would be more gentle,\n      Our tones more tender be;\n    O'er his fault we'd draw the mantle\n      Of fervent charity.\n\n    If we knew how dark and cheerless\n      Seem the coming years,\n    We might then appear more fearless\n      Of each other's cares.\n    Could our eyes pierce through the smiling\n      Of the face so calm,\n    See the bitter self-reviling,\n      We'd apply the balm.\n\n    Did we walk a little nearer\n      To Jesus in the way,\n    Hear His voice a little clearer\n      We would know how to pray.\n    He has words of comfort given\n      That we to them should speak,\n    Ere the hopeless soul is driven\n      His faith with God to break.\n\n    We shall know each other better,\n      The mists shall roll away;\n    Nevermore we'll feel the fetter\n      Of this toil-worn clay.\n    Only let us love each other,\n      'Tis our Lord's command,\n    To each fainting friend or brother\n      Reach a helping hand.\n\n    --_Anna L. Dreyer, of Missionary Training Home at Tabor, Iowa._\n\n\n                 LITTLE GRAVES.\n\nYou have your little grave; I have mine. You have your sad memories; I\nhave mine. For,\n\n    \"There is no flock, however tended,\n      But one dead lamb is there;\n    There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended,\n      But hath its vacant chair.\n\n    \"The air is full of farewells to the dying,\n      And weepings for the dead;\n    The heart of Rachel for her children crying\n      Will not be comforted.\"\n\nI have pleasant thoughts sometimes about these little graves. I think\nwhat a safe place the little grave is. Temptations never come there.\nSins never pollute there. Tears, pains, disappointments, bereavements,\ntrials, cares, and snares, are all unknown in that silent resting\nplace. And then, Jesus has the keys, and he keeps our treasures\nsafely, and guards them securely. No mother's heart is anxious about a\nchild that is laid in the little grave. No prayers of anguish go up\nfor it as for those tossed by the storms of passion, sunk in the\nwhirlpool of vice, or lost in the wide wilderness of sorrow and of\nsin. There is now no need of chiding, reproving, watching, and\nrestraining. The chief Shepherd bears the lamb on his own bosom, and\nit is forever safe.\n\nThe little grave is a sacred place. The Lord of glory has passed into\nthe sepulchre, and from it he has opened up the path of life. Hope\nblooms there, and hearts-ease and amaranth blossom amid the shadows\nthat linger over it, and Jesus watches his treasures and counts his\njewels in the little graves.\n\nThe little grave shall be opened by and by. The night is dark, but\nthere is a flush of morn upon the mountains, and a gleam of sunlight\nglows along the distant hills. He who bears the keys of hell and of\ndeath, shall come back to open the little graves, and call the\nsleepers forth. Then cherub forms shall burst the silent tombs, and\nthese green hillocks shall bear their harvest for the garner of our\nGod.--Sel.\n\n\n         THE MOTHER'S WARNING.\n\n    Touch it not--ye do not know,\n      Unless you've borne a fate like mine,\n    How deep a curse, how wild a woe,\n      Is lurking in that ruby wine.\n    Look on my cheek--'tis withered now;\n      It once was round and smooth as thine;\n    Look on my deeply furrowed brow--\n      'Tis all the work of treacherous wine.\n    I had two sons, two princely boys,\n      As noble men as God e'er gave;\n    I saw them fall from honor's joys\n      To fill a common drunkard's grave.\n    I had a daughter, young and fair,\n      As pure as ever woman bore.\n    Where is she? Did you ask me where?\n      Bend low, I'll tell the tale once more.\n    I saw that fairy child of mine\n      Linked to a kingly bridegroom's side;\n    Her heart was proud and light as thine,\n      Oh, would to God she then had died!\n    Not many moons had filled their horn,\n      While she upon his bosom slept;\n    'Twas on a dark November morn,\n      She o'er a murdered husband wept;\n    Her drunken father dealt the blow--\n      Her brain grew wild, her heart grew weak;\n    Was ever tale of deeper woe\n      A mother's lips had lived to speak?\n    She dwells in yonder darkened halls,\n      No ray of reason there does shine;\n    She on her murdered husband calls.\n      'Twas done by wine, by cursed wine!\n\n                             --_Temperance Banner._\n\n\n                            HARRY'S REMORSE.\n\n    It's curious, isn't it, chaplain, what a twelve months may bring?\n    Last year I was in Chicago, gambling and living in sin;\n    Was raking in pools at the races, and feeing the waiters with ten,\n    Was sipping mint juleps by twilight, while today I am in the pen.\n\n    What led me to do it? What always leads a man to destruction and crime?\n    The prodigal son you have read of has altered somewhat in his time.\n    He spends his money as freely as the Biblical fellow of old,\n    And when it is gone he fancies the husks will turn into gold.\n\n    Champagne, a box at the opera, high steps while fortune is flush;\n    The passionate kisses of women whose cheeks have forgotten to blush.\n    The old, old story, chaplain, of pleasure that ends in tears,\n    The froth that foams for an hour and the dregs that are tasted\n          for years.\n\n    Last night as I sat here and pondered on the end of my evil ways,\n    There rose like a phantom before me the vision of boyhood days;\n    I thought of my old, old home, chaplain, of the schoolhouse that\n          stood on the hill,\n    Of the brook that ran through the meadow--I can hear its music still.\n\n    And again I thought of my mother, of the mother who taught me to pray,\n    Whose love was a precious treasure that I heedlessly cast away;\n    And again I saw in my vision the fresh-lipped, careless boy,\n    To whom the future was boundless and the world but a mighty toy.\n\n    I saw all this as I sat there, of my ruined and wasted life,\n    And the thoughts of my remorse were bitter, they pierced my heart\n          like a knife.\n    It takes some courage, chaplain, to laugh in the face of fate,\n    When the yearning ambition of manhood is blasted at twenty-eight.\n\n    --_Composed and written by Harry S----while taking a retrospection\n    of the past._\n\n\n                        TWENTY--THIRTY-FOUR.\n\nThe line of dingy-coated men stretched along the broad granite walk\nand like a great gray serpent wound in and out among the wagon shops\nand planing mills that filled the prison yard.\n\nDown beyond the foundry the beginning of the line, the head of the\nserpent, was lost at the stairway leading to the second floor of a\nlong, narrow building in which whisk brooms were manufactured.\n\nAn hour before, on the sounding of a brass gong at the front, the same\nline had wound round the same corners into the building whence now it\ncrawled. There, the men had seated themselves on four-legged stools\nbefore benches that stretched across the room in rows. Before each man\nwas set a tin plate of boiled meat; a heavy cup of black coffee, a\nknife, a fork, and a thick bowl of steaming, odorous soup.\n\nDuring the meal other men, dressed like the hundreds who were sitting,\nin suits of dull gray, with little round-crowned, peaked-visored caps\nto match, moved in and out between the rows, distributing chunks of\nfresh white bread from heavy baskets. Now and then one of the men\nwould shake his head and the waiter would pass him by, but usually a\ndozen hands were thrust into a basket at once to clutch the regulation\n\"bit\" of half a pound. The men ate ravenously, as if famished.\n\nYet a silence that appalled hovered over the long bare dining-hall\nwhere eight hundred men were being fed. There was no clatter of\nknives and forks; there were no jests; they moved about as noiselessly\nas ghosts.\n\nThere were faces stamped with indelible marks of depravity and vice,\nbut now and then the \"breadtossers\" would see uplifted a pair of frank\nblue eyes, in which burned the light of hope. Men were there who\ndreamed of a day to come when all would be forgiven and forgotten;\nwhen a hand would again be held out in welcome, and a kiss again be\npressed to quivering lips. Men there were of all kinds, of all\ncountenances, young and old; the waving, sunlit hair of youth side by\nside with locks in which the snow was thickly sprinkled. All these men\nwere paying the penalty society imposes on proved criminals.\n\nAnd now, their dinner over, they were marching back to the shops and\nmills of the prison, where days and weeks were spent at labor. Those\nmen employed in the wagon-works dropped out of the line when they came\nopposite the entrance to their building. Those behind pushed forward\nas their prison-mates disappeared, and never for more than ten seconds\nwas there a gap in the long, gray line.\n\nThe whisk-broom factory occupied the second floor of the building at\nthe far end of the prison yard. On the ground floor men worked at\nlathes, turning out the wooden handles to the brooms that were\nfinished, sorted and tied up-stairs. At the corner the line divided,\nsixty-five of the men climbed the stairway to the second floor, the\nother thirty entered the lathe-room below.\n\nA dozen men in blue uniforms marched beside the line on its way from\nthe mess-hall, six on each side, at two yards' distance. Their caps\nbore \"Guard\" in gold letters, and each guard carried a short, heavy,\ncrooked cane of polished white hickory. On entering the work-room of\nthe second floor, the men assembled before a railed platform, upon\nwhich a red-faced, coatless man stood behind a big desk. In cold,\nmetallic tones he called the numbers of the convicts who in turn\nreplied \"Here!\" when their numbers were spoken.\n\n\"Twenty-thirty-four!\" called the red-faced man. There was no response.\n\n\"Twenty-thirty-four?\" The red-faced man leaned over the desk and\nglared down. Then a voice from somewhere on the left answered \"Here!\"\n\n\"What was the matter with you the first time?\" snapped the foreman.\n\nThe man thus questioned removed his cap and took three steps toward\nthe platform. In feature the word \"hard\" would describe him. His head\nwas long, wide at the forehead, and yet narrow between the temples.\nHis eyes were small and close together. His nose was flat, and mouth\nhardly more than a straight cut in the lower part of his face. The\nlower jaw was square and heavy, and the ears protruded abnormally. A\ntrifle above medium height with a pair of drooping, twitching\nshoulders, the man looked criminal.\n\nTo the question he replied doggedly, \"I answered the first time, sir,\nbut I guess you didn't hear me.\"\n\nThe foreman gazed steadily at the man. Their eyes met. The foreman's\ndid not waver, but \"2034\" lowered his and fumbled nervously at his\ncap.\n\n\"All right,\" said the foreman, quickly, \"but I guess you'd better\nreport to the warden as soon as you get through in here. Don't wait\nfor any piece-work. Go to him as soon as you have finished your task.\nI'll tell him you're coming. He'll be waiting for you at the front\noffice.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\" The convict did not raise his eyes. He stepped back into\nthe line.\n\nThen, at the clap of the foreman's hands, the men broke ranks, and\neach walked away to his own bench or machine. Five minutes later, the\nswish on the corn-wisps as they were separated and tied into rough\nbrooms, and the occasional tap of a hammer, were the only sounds in\nthat long room where sixty-five men toiled.\n\nNow and then one of the men would go to the platform where the foreman\nsat bent over half a dozen little books, in which it was his duty to\nrecord the number of \"tasks\" completed by each of the workmen \"on his\ncontract\"--a \"task\" in the prison vernacular being the work each man\nis compelled to accomplish within a certain space of time. On the\napproach of a workman the foreman would look up and a few whispered\nwords would pass between the two. Then the broom-maker would dart into\nthe stock room, adjoining the factory, where, upon receiving a written\nrequisition from the foreman, the officer in charge would give him the\nmaterial he needed in his work--a ball of twine, or a strip of plush\nwith which the handles of the brooms were decorated.\n\nAt ten minutes past three, 2034 crossed to the platform.\n\n\"What do you want?\" asked the foreman, as he eyed keenly the man in\nthe gray suit.\n\n\"A paper of small tacks,\" was the reply, quickly spoken. The order was\nwritten, and as 2034 moved towards the door leading toward the\nstock-room, the man on the platform asked in an undertone, \"Anything\nwrong, Bill?\"\n\n\"That's what I don't know, George,\" the foreman replied. \"That man\nRiley's been acting queer of late. I've got an idea there's something\nup his sleeve. There's not a harder nut on the contract than that\nfellow, and by the way he's been carrying on, sullen like and all\nthat, I'm fearing something's going to happen. You remember, don't\nyou? What, no? He's that Riley from Acorn. He came in two years ago on\na burglary job in Clive, where he shot a drug clerk that offered\nobjections to his carrying off all there was in the shop. They made it\nmanslaughter and he's in for fifteen years. There's another warrant\nready for him when he gets out, for a job done four years ago in\nKentucky. He's a bad one. A fellow like that is no good around this\nshop.\"\n\nThe guard smiled cynically at the foreman's suggestion that a convict\nmay be too bad even for prison surroundings.\n\n\"But I've got my eye on him,\" continued the foreman. \"I'm sending him\nup to the warden this afternoon. Say, George, when you go back, will\nyou tell the warden Riley's coming up to call on him?\"\n\n\"Sure, Bill,\" was the smiling reply of the guard as he moved away.\nTwenty-thirty-four had returned with a paper of tacks and gone\ndirectly to his bench.\n\nIt was a quarter of four by the foreman's watch when the door at the\nhead of the stairway opened and the warden entered, accompanied by two\nfriends whom he was showing through the \"plant,\" as he preferred to\ncall the prison.\n\n\"This is where the whisk-brooms are made,\" said the warden. \"On the\nfloor below, which we just left, you will remember we saw the boys\nturning out broom-handles. Well, here the brooms are tied and sewed\nthrough by hand, over at those benches. In the room beyond, through\nthat door, we keep the stuff handy that is called for from time to\ntime. In a further room is stored the material used in the manufacture\nof the brooms, the tin tips, the tacks, the twine, and about ten or\ntwelve tons of broom straw.\"\n\nAs the warden ceased speaking, the foreman leaned across the desk and\ntapped him on the shoulder. \"Riley's coming up to see you this\nafternoon. He's been acting queer--don't answer the call and the\nlike.\"\n\nThe warden only nodded, and continued his explanation to the visitors.\n\n\"Now,\" he said, moving towards the door of the stock-room, \"if you\nwill come over here I'll show you our store-room. You see we have to\nkeep a lot of material on hand. Beyond this second room the stuff is\nstored up, and is taken into the stock-room as it is wanted. Between\nthe rooms we have arranged these big sliding iron doors that, in case\nof a fire, could be dropped, and thus, for a few minutes at least, cut\nthe flames off from any room but that in which they originated. You\nsee,\" pulling an iron lever which let the heavy iron sheet slide to\nthe floor, \"that completes the wall.\"\n\nThe visitor nodded. \"Now, come on through the second room, and into\nthe third,\" there, ranged regularly on the floor were huge bales of\nbroom straw, and piled against the walls were boxes upon boxes of\ntacks, velvet, ornamental bits of metal, and all the other separate\nparts of the commercial whisk broom.\n\nThe visitors examined the tacks and the tins and felt of the bales of\nstraw.\n\n\"Very interesting,\" observed one of the men, as he drew his cigar case\nfrom his pocket, and biting the tip from one of the cigars it\ncontained, struck a little wax match on the sole of his shoe. He held\nthe match in his hand till it had burned down, then threw it on the\nfloor, and followed the warden and the other visitor under the heavy\niron screen into the workingroom of the factory.\n\nThe foreman was busy at his books and did not observe the little party\nas it passed through on the other side of the broom-bins and out at\nthe big door.\n\nTwo minutes later, 2034 happened to look out through the window across\nhis bench and he saw the warden with his friends crossing the prison\nyards to the foundry. A guard just then sauntered into the room and\nstopped at the first of the bins. He idly picked up one of the\nfinished brooms and examined it. His attention a moment later was\nattracted by some one pulling at his coat from behind. He turned.\n\n\"Why, Tommy, my boy, what is it?\"\n\nThe two soft brown eyes of a little boy were turned up to him. \"I'm\nlooking for papa,\" replied the little fellow. \"The foreman down-stairs\nsaid he come up here. Uncle George is back in the house, and mamma\nsent me out to find papa.\"\n\nThe guard patted the little fellow's head. \"And we'll find him,\nTommy,\" he said. He went over to the foreman's desk. \"Bill, did the\nwarden come up here? Tommy is looking for him; his mother sent him\nout.\"\n\nThe foreman raised his eyes from his books. \"Yes,\" he replied, \"he\nwent in there, with a couple of gentlemen.\"\n\nThe guard looked down at the little boy. \"He's in the store-room,\" he\nsaid, \"you'll find him in there, Tommy.\"\n\nThen he turned and walked out of the shop. The child ran on into the\nroom beyond. His father was not there. The stock-keeper did not\nobserve the little boy as he tiptoed, in a childish way, past the\ndesk. Tommy passed on into the farther room. He knew he would find\nhis father in there, and he would crawl along between the tiers of\nstraw bales and take him by surprise.\n\nHe had hardly passed when the stock-keeper, raising his head from the\nlist of material he was preparing, held his face and sniffed the air.\nQuietly he rose from his revolving chair and went to the straw-room\ndoor. He merely peered inside. Turning suddenly, he pressed upon the\nlever near the door and the iron screen slid down into place, cutting\noff the farther room. Then, snatching a few books that lay on his\ndesk, he slipped out into the shop, and at that door released the\nsecond screen. As it fell into place with a slight crunching noise,\nthe foreman turned in his chair. The eyes of the two met. The\nstock-keeper raised his hand and touched his lip with the first\nfinger. He crossed rapidly to the desk.\n\n\"Get the men out! Get the men out!\" he gasped. \"The store-room is on\nfire!\"\n\nThe foreman rapped on the table twice. Every man in that room turned\nand faced the desk.\n\n\"Work is over for today,\" said the foreman. His manner was ominously\ncalm, and the men looked at one another wonderingly.\n\n\"Fall in!\"\n\nAt the order, the dingy gray suits formed in the same old serpent, and\nthe line moved rapidly through the door at the end of the room and\ndown the outside stairs.\n\nThere, in front of the building, they were halted, and a guard\ndispatched to find the warden. He was discovered in the foundry. \"Fire\nin the broom-shop!\" whispered the guard.\n\nThe warden's face paled. He dashed through the doorway, and one\nminute later came around the corner of the building, just in time to\nsee the first signs of flames against the windows of the rear room\nup-stairs.\n\nWithin five seconds, a troop of fifteen guards had drawn the little\nhand-engine from its house and hitched the hose to the hydrant nearest\nthe shop. From all the other buildings the men were being marched to\ntheir cells.\n\n\"These men!\" hurriedly whispered the foreman to the warden. \"What\nshall I do with them?\"\n\n\"Get 'em inside as soon as you can! This won't last long, the front of\nthe building is cut off. It'll all be over in ten minutes.\"\n\nThe foreman gave an order. At that instant a woman came running down\nthe prison yard. Reaching the warden's side, she fell against him\nheavily.\n\n\"Why, Harriet,\" he exclaimed, \"what is the matter?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" she gasped, \"Tommy! Tommy! Where is Tommy?\"\n\nA guard at the end of the engine rail turned ashy white. He raised a\nhand to his head, and with the other grasped the wheel to keep from\nfalling. Then he cried, \"Mr. Jeffries, I--I believe Tommy is up there\nin the stock-room. He went to look--\"\n\nThe warden clutched the man's arm. \"Up there? Up there?\" he cried.\n\nThe sudden approach of the woman and the words that followed had\nwrought so much confusion that the men had paid no attention to the\nforeman's command, and he had even failed to notice their lack of\nattention, in the excitement of that moment.\n\n\"Great God!\" cried the warden. \"What can I do--what can I do? No one\ncan live up there!\"\n\nThere was a crash. One of the windows fell out. \"Get a ladder!\" some\none cried. A guard ran back toward the prison-house. Then, in the\nmidst of the hubbub, a man in a dingy gray suit stepped out a yard\nfrom the line of convicts. His prison number was 2034. He touched his\nlittle square cap.\n\n\"If you'll give me permission, I think I can get up there,\" was all he\nsaid.\n\n\"You! you!\" exclaimed the warden. \"No, no; I will tell no man to do\nit!\"\n\nThere was a second crash. Another window had fallen out, and now the\ntongues of flame were lapping the outer walls above.\n\nThe convict made no reply. With a bound he was at the end of the line\nand dashing up the stairway.\n\nThe warden's wife was on her knees, clinging to the hand of her\nhusband. In his eyes was a dead, cold look. A few men bit their lips,\nand a faint shadow of a smile played about the mouths of others. They\nall waited. A convict had broken a regulation--had run from the line!\nHe would be punished! Even as he had clambered up the stairs a guard\nhad cried, \"shall I shoot?\"\n\nThe silence was broken by a shriek from the woman kneeling at the\nwarden's feet. \"Look!\" she cried, and pointed towards the last of the\nup-stairs windows.\n\nThere, surrounded by a halo of smoke, and hemmed in on all sides by\nflames, stood a man in a dingy gray suit. One sleeve was on fire, but\nhe beat out the flames with his left hand. Those below heard him cry,\n\"I've got him!\" Then the figure disappeared. Instantly it returned,\nbearing something in its arms. It was the limp form of a child.\n\nAll saw the man wrap smoking straw round the little body and tie\nround that two strands of heavy twine. Then that precious burden was\nlowered out of the window. The father rushed forward and held up his\nhands to receive it.\n\nAnother foot--he hugged the limp body of his boy to his breast! On the\nground a little way back lay a woman, as if dead.\n\n\"Here's the ladder!\" yelled the foreman, and that moment the eyes that\nwere still turned upon the window above where stood a man in a dingy\ngray suit, witnessed a spectacle that will reappear before them again\nand again in visions of the night.\n\nThe coat the man wore was ablaze. Flames shot on either side of him\nand above him. Just as the ladder was placed against the wall, a\ncrackling was heard--not the crackling of the fire. Then like a\nthunderbolt, a crash occurred that caused even the men in their cells\nto start. The roof caved in.\n\nIn the prison yard that line of convicts saw 2034 reel and fall\nbackwards, and heard, as he fell, his last cry, \"I'm a-comin',\nwarden!\"\n\nHe was a convicted criminal, and died in prison gray. But it would\nseem not wonderful to the warden if, when that man's soul took flight,\nthe recording angel did write his name on the eternal Book of Record,\nwith a strange cabalistic sign, a ring around a cross--that stands for\n\"good behavior.\"--_The Youth's Companion._\n\n\n         HIS MOTHER'S SONG.\n\n    Beneath the hot midsummer sun\n      The men had marched all day;\n    And now beside a rippling stream\n      Upon the grass they lay.\n    Tiring of games and idle jest,\n      As swept the hours along,\n    They cried to one who mused apart,\n      \"Come, friend, give us a song.\"\n\n    \"I fear I cannot please,\" he said;\n      \"The only songs I know\n    Are those my mother used to sing\n      For me, long years ago.\"\n    \"Sing one of those,\" a rough voice cried,\n      \"There's none but true men here;\n    To every mother's son of us\n      A mother's songs are dear.\"\n\n    Then sweetly rose the singer's voice\n      Amid unwonted calm,\n    \"Am I a soldier of the Cross,\n      A follower of the Lamb?\n    And shall I fear to own His Cause?\"\n      The very stream was stilled,\n    And hearts that never throbbed with fear\n      With tender thoughts were filled.\n\n    Ended the song; the singer said,\n      As to his feet he rose,\n    \"Thanks to you all, my friends, good-night,\n      God grant us sweet repose.\"\n    \"Sing us one more,\" the captain begged,\n      The soldier bent his head,\n    Then glancing round, with smiling lips,\n      \"You'll join with me?\" he said.\n\n    \"We'll sing this old familiar air,\n      Sweet as the bugle call,\n    'All hail the power of Jesus' name,\n      Let angels prostrate fall;'\"\n    Ah! wondrous was the old tune's spell,\n      As on the soldier sang,\n    Man after man fell into line,\n      And loud the voices rang.\n\n    The songs are done, the camp is still,\n      Naught but the stream is heard;\n    But ah! the depths of every soul\n      By those old hymns are stirred,\n    And up from many a bearded lip,\n      In whispers soft and low,\n    Rises the prayer that mother taught\n      Her boy long years ago.\n\n                               --_Safeguard._\n\n\n                            PERFECT PEACE.\n\n[Lines written by a lady on the steamship \"Mongolia,\" near Malta. She\nwas en route from China, where she had been a missionary for seventeen\nyears, to her home in England. She gave the verses to Bishop Bowman,\nwho was on the steamer with her, and he sent them to his wife, not\nknowing she had died a few days before he wrote his letter.--_A.\nLowry._]\n\n    Lonely? No, not lonely\n      While Jesus stands by;\n    His presence always cheers me,\n      I know that He is nigh.\n\n    Friendless? No, not friendless,\n      For Jesus is my friend;\n    I change, but He remaineth\n      The same unto the end.\n\n    Tired? No, not tired,\n      While leaning on His breast;\n    My soul hath full enjoyment,\n      'Tis His eternal rest.\n\n    Saddened? No, not saddened\n      By darkest scenes of woe;\n    I should be, if I knew not\n      That Jesus loves me so.\n\n    Helpless? Yes, so helpless,\n      But I am leaning hard\n    On the mighty arm of Jesus,\n      And He is keeping guard.\n\n    Waiting? Oh, yes, waiting,\n      He bade me watch and wait;\n    I only wonder often\n      What makes my Lord so late.\n\n    Joyful? Yes, so joyful,\n      With joy too deep for words;\n    A precious, sure possession,\n      The joy that is my Lord's.\n\n                         --_Divine Life._\n\n\n                             SWEET REVENGE.\n\nA few years ago while Robert Stewart was Governor of Missouri, a\nsteamboat man was brought in from the penitentiary for a pardon. He\nwas a large, powerful fellow, and when the governor looked at him he\nseemed strangely affected. He scrutinized him long and closely.\nFinally he signed the document that restored to the prisoner his\nliberty. Before he handed it to him he said, \"You will commit some\nother crime and be in the penitentiary again, I fear.\"\n\nThe man solemnly promised that he would not. The governor looked\ndoubtful, mused a few minutes and said, \"You will go back on the river\nand be a mate again, I suppose?\"\n\nThe man replied that he would.\n\n\"Well, I want you to promise me one thing,\" resumed the governor. \"I\nwant you to pledge your word that when you are mate again, you will\nnever take a billet of wood in your hand and drive a sick boy out of a\nbunk to help you load your boat on a stormy night.\"\n\nThe boatman said he would not, and inquired what he meant by asking\nhim such a question.\n\nThe governor replied, \"Because some day that boy may become a\ngovernor, and you may want him to pardon you for a crime. One dark\nstormy night many years ago you stopped your boat on the Mississippi\nRiver to take on a load of wood. There was a boy on board working his\nway from New Orleans to St. Louis, but he was very sick of fever and\nwas lying in a bunk. You had plenty of men to do the work but you went\nto that boy with a stick of wood in your hand and drove him with blows\nand curses out into the wretched night and kept him toiling like a\nslave until the load was completed. I was that boy. Here is your\npardon. Never again be guilty of such brutality.\"\n\nThe man, cowering and hiding his face, went out without a word.\n\nWhat a noble revenge that was, and what a lesson for a\nbully.--_Success._\n\n\n                   NO TELEPHONE IN HEAVEN.\n\n    \"Now, I can wait on baby,\" the smiling merchant said,\n    As he stooped and softly toyed with the golden, curly head.\n    \"I want oo to tall up mamma,\" came the answer full and free,\n    \"Wif yo' telephone an' ast her when she's tummin' back to me.\n\n    \"Tell her I so lonesome 'at I don't know what to do,\n    An' papa cries so much I dess he must be lonesome, too;\n    Tell her to tum to baby, 'tause at night I dit so 'fraid,\n    Wif nobody here to tiss me, when the light bedins to fade.\n\n    \"All froo de day I wants her, for my dolly dot so tored\n    Fum the awful punchin' Buddy gave it wif his little sword;\n    An' ain't nobody to fix it, since mamma went away,\n    An' poor 'ittle lonesome dolly's dittin' thinner ever' day.\"\n\n    \"My child,\" the merchant murmured, as he stroked the anxious brow,\n    \"There's no telephone connection where your mother lives at now.\"\n    \"Ain't no telephone in Heaven?\" and tears sprang to her eyes.\n    \"I fought dat God had every'fing wif Him up in de skies.\"\n\n                                        --_Atlanta Constitution._\n\n\n           PERFECT THROUGH FAITH.\n\n    God would not send you the darkness\n      If He felt you could bear the light,\n    But you would not cling to His guiding hand\n      If the way were always bright;\n    And you would not care to walk by faith\n      Could you always walk by sight.\n\n    'Tis true He has many an anguish\n      For your sorrowing heart to bear,\n    And many a cruel thorn-crown\n      For your tired head to wear;\n    He knows how few would reach home at all\n      If pain did not guide them there.\n\n    If He sends you in blinding darkness,\n      And the furnace of seven-fold heat;\n    'Tis the only way, believe me,\n      To keep you close to His feet;\n    For 'tis always so easy to wander\n      When our lives are glad and sweet.\n\n    Then nestle your hand in our Father's\n      And sing if you can as you go;\n    Your song may cheer some one behind you\n      Whose courage is sinking low;\n    And, well if your lips do quiver,\n      God will love you better so.\n\n                                   --_Selected._\n\n\n                             A TRUE HERO.\n\nTwo men were sinking a shaft. It was dangerous business, for it was\nnecessary to blast the rock. It was their custom to cut the fuse with\na sharp knife. One man then entered the bucket and made a signal to be\nhauled up. When the bucket again descended, the other man entered it,\nand with one hand on the signal rope and the other holding the fire,\nhe touched the fuse, made the signal, and was rapidly drawn up before\nthe explosion took place.\n\nOne day they left the knife above, and rather than ascend to procure\nit, they cut the fuse with a sharp stone. It took fire. \"The fuse is\non fire!\" Both men leaped into the bucket, and made the signal; but\nthe windlass would haul up but one man at a time; only one could\nescape. One of the men instantly leaped out, and said to the other,\n\"Up wi' ye; I'll be in heaven in a minute.\" With lightning speed the\nbucket was drawn up, and the one man was saved. The explosion took\nplace. Men descended, expecting to find the mangled body of the other\nminer; but the blast had loosened a mass of rock, and it lay\ndiagonally across him; and, with the exception of a few bruises and a\nlittle scorching, he was unhurt. When asked why he urged his comrade\nto escape, he gave a reason that sceptics would laugh at. If there is\nany being on the face of the earth I pity, it is a sceptic. I would\nnot be called \"a sceptic,\" today for all this world's wealth. They may\ncall it superstition or fanaticism, or whatever they choose. But what\ndid this hero say when asked, \"Why did you insist on this other man's\nascending?\" In his quaint dialect, he replied, \"Because I knowed my\nsoul was safe; for I've give it in the hands of Him of whom it is\nsaid, that 'faithfulness is the girdle of his reins,' and I knowed\nthat what I gied Him He'd never gie up. But t'other chap was an awful\nwicked lad, and I wanted to gie him another chance.\" All the\ninfidelity in the world cannot produce such a signal act of heroism as\nthat.--_Selected._\n\n\n                              THE \"KID.\"\n\nIt was not a long procession or a pleasing one but it attracted much\nattention.\n\nThere was a policeman in the lead. Beside him walked a stockey,\nbullnecked young fellow in a yellowish suit of loud plaid. His face\nwas bloody and his right wrist encircled by the bracelet of the\n\"twisters\" which shackled him to his captor. The face of the policeman\nwas also bloody and his clothes were torn. Behind these two walked\nthree other patrolmen, each with a handcuffed prisoner.\n\nThe \"kid\" and his \"gang\" had been caught in the act of robbing a\nsaloon, and the fight had been lively, although short. The prisoners\nhad been taken to the detectives' office, and photographed and\nregistered for the rogues' gallery. They were now on their way to\ncourt, and thence, in all probability, to jail.\n\nAt Broadway there was a jam of cars and heavy trucks, and the\nprocession had to wait. Nobody has been able to tell just what\nhappened, but they all agree as to the essential points. First the\nbystanders saw a streak of yellow, which was the kid; then a streak of\nblue which was the policeman. The prisoner had wrenched the twisters\nfrom his captors' hand, and made a dash across the tracks. The\npoliceman, thinking, of course that he was trying to escape, had\nfollowed.\n\nThen everybody saw a little child toddling along in the middle of the\ntrack. A cable-car, with clanging bell, was bearing down upon it with\na speed which the gripman seemed powerless to check. The baby held up\nits hands, and laughed at the sound of the gong. On the other side of\nthe street a woman was screaming and struggling in the arms of three\nor four men who were trying to keep her from sacrificing her own life\nto save that of her child.\n\nThen the kid stood there with the child safe in his arms, the steel\ntwisters hanging from his wrist. He set the baby down gently at his\nfeet, loosened the clasp of the chubby hand on his big red fist, and\nquietly held out his wrist to the policeman to be handcuffed again. He\nhad one chance in a million for his life when he made that desperate\nleap, but he had not hesitated the fraction of a second.\n\n\n                      CHARGED WITH MURDER.\n\n\"Prisoner at the bar, have you anything to say why sentence of death\nshould not be passed upon you?\"\n\nA solemn hush fell over the crowded court-room, and every person\nwaited in almost breathless expectation for the answer to the judge's\nquestion.\n\n\"I have, your honor! I stand here convicted of the murder of my wife.\nWitnesses have testified that I was a loafer, a drunkard and a wretch;\nthat I returned from one of my debauches and fired the shot that\nkilled the wife I had sworn to love, cherish and protect. While I have\nno remembrance of committing the awful deed, I have no right to\ncondemn the verdict of the jury, for their verdict is in accordance\nwith the evidence.\n\n\"But, may it please the court, I wish to show that I am not alone\nresponsible for the murder of my wife! The judge on this bench, the\njury in the box, the lawyers within this bar and most of the\nwitnesses, including the pastor of the church, are also guilty before\nGod and will have to stand with me before His judgment throne, where\nwe shall all be righteously judged.\n\n\"If it had not been for the saloons of my town, I never would have\nbecome a drunkard; my wife would not have been murdered; I would not\nbe here now, soon to be hurled into eternity.\n\n\"For one year our town was without a saloon. For one year I was a\nsober man. For one year my wife and children were happy and our little\nhome was a paradise.\n\n\"I was one of those who signed remonstrances against re-opening the\nsaloons of our town. One-half of this jury, the prosecuting attorney\non this case, and the judge who sits on this bench, all voted for the\nsaloons. By their votes and influence the saloons were opened, and\nthey have made me what I am.\n\n\"Think you that the Great Judge will hold me--the poor, weak, helpless\nvictim--alone responsible for the murder of my wife? Nay; I, in my\ndrunken, frenzied, irresponsible condition have murdered one; but you\nhave deliberately voted for the saloons which have murdered thousands,\nand they are in full operation today with your consent. You legalized\nthe saloons that made me a drunkard and a murderer, and you are guilty\nwith me before God and man for the murder of my wife.\n\n\"I will close by solemnly asking God to open your blind eyes to your\nown individual responsibility, so that you will cease to give your\nsupport to this hell-born traffic.\"--_Sel._\n\n\n              MOTHER'S FACE.\n\n    There's a feeling comes across me--\n      Comes across me often now--\n    And it deepest seems when trouble\n      Lays her finger on my brow;\n    O it is a deep, deep feeling,\n      Neither happiness nor pain!\n    'Tis a mighty, soulful longing\n      To see mother's face again!\n\n    'Tis, I think, a natural feeling;\n      Worst of me, I can't control\n    Myself no more! It seems to stir\n      And thrill my very soul!\n    Try to laugh it off--but useless!\n      Oh! my tears will fall like rain\n    When I get this soulful longing\n      Just to see her face again!\n\n    You won't know how much you love her\n      (Your old mother) till you roam\n    'Way off where her voice can't reach you,\n      And with strangers make your home;\n    Then you'll know how big your heart is,\n      Think you never loved before,\n    When you get this mighty longing\n      Just to see her face once more.\n\n    Mother! tender, loving soul!\n      Heaven bless her dear old face!\n    I'd give half my years remaining\n      Just to give her one embrace;\n    Or to shower love-warm kisses\n      On her lips, and cheeks, and brow,\n    And appease this mighty longing\n      That I get so often now!\n\n                                    --_Sel._\n\n\n                 ONLY SIXTEEN.\n\n    Only sixteen, so the papers say,\n    Yet there on the cold, stony ground he lay;\n    'Tis the same sad story we hear every day.\n    He came to his death in the public highway.\n    Full of promise, talent and pride,\n    Yet the rum fiend conquered him--so he died.\n    Did not the angels weep o'er the scene?\n    For he died a drunkard and only sixteen.\n        Only sixteen.\n\n    Oh! it were sad he must die all alone,\n    That of all his friends, not even one\n    Was there to list to his last faint moan,\n    Or point the suffering soul to the throne\n    Of grace. If, perchance, God's only Son\n    Would say, \"Whosoever will may come.\"--\n    But we hasten to draw a veil over the scene,\n    With his God we leave him--only sixteen.\n        Only sixteen.\n\n    Rumseller, come view the work you have wrought!\n    Witness the suffering and pain you have brought\n    To the poor boy's friends; they loved him well,\n    And yet you dared the vile beverage to sell\n    That beclouded his brain, his reason dethroned,\n    And left him to die out there all alone.\n    What if 't were your son instead of another?\n    What if your wife were that poor boy's mother?\n        And he only sixteen.\n\n    Ye freeholders who signed the petition to grant\n    The license to sell, do you think you will want\n    That record to meet in the last great day\n    When heaven and earth shall have passed away,\n    When the elements melting with fervent heat\n    Shall proclaim the triumph of right complete?\n    Will you wish to have his blood on your hands\n    When before the great throne you each shall stand?\n        And he only sixteen.\n\n    Christian men! rouse ye to stand for the right,\n    To action and duty; into the light.\n    Come with your banners inscribed: \"Death to rum.\"\n    Let your conscience speak, listen, then come;\n    Strike killing blows; hew to the line;\n    Make it a felony even to sign\n    A petition to license; you would do it I ween\n    If that were your son and he only sixteen,\n        Only sixteen.\n\n\n                         THE DRESS QUESTION.\n\nOne day, at Louisville, riding with Mrs. Wheaton to visit the sick\nprisoners, she said, \"Do you think it your duty to rebuke Christians\nwho wear jewelry?\" I saw her question was a kindly reproof to me, and\nsaid, \"If the Lord wants me to give up the jewelry I have, He will\nshow me.\" \"Yes, He will,\" she answered; \"for I am praying for you.\"\nThe next morning the friend who was entertaining me told me her little\neleven-year-old daughter, Emma, just converted, said, \"Mamma, I wish\nyou would read to me in the Bible where it says not to wear jewelry.\"\nThe mother read the verses. Then the child said, \"Mamma, if the Lord\ndoes not want me to wear jewelry, I don't want to;\" and she brought\nher little pin and ring to her mother. I took my Bible and read,\n\"Whose adorning, let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the\nhair and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel; but let it\nbe the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even\nthe ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God\nof great price\" (1 Peter ii, 3, 4); and, \"In like manner also, that\nwomen adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and\nsobriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or costly array, but\n(which becometh women professing godliness) with good works.\" (1 Tim.\nii, 9, 10.) Then I thought: \"The child is right. The Bible means just\nwhat it says.\" Then I recalled that Mrs. Wheaton had told me how she\nwent one day to visit a poor, sick girl, to whom she had talked of the\nlove of Christ until she was almost won. She went again with a wealthy\nwoman, who was decked with diamonds. As they entered the room, the\ngirl pointed to the jewels, and said: \"O mother, mother! I have wanted\nthem all my life!\" The rich woman tried to hide her diamonds, and Mrs.\nWheaton tried to turn the girl's attention again to the Savior, but in\nvain. Her last thought was of the diamonds, and her last words, \"I\nhave wanted them all my life!\"\n\nSitting there, with this incident fresh in my mind, I quietly slipped\noff ring, watch, chain, cuff-buttons, and collar-stud; and gold, as an\nadornment, was put away forever.--_Abbie C. Morrow, in Revival\nAdvocate, March 7, 1901._\n\n\n                        SONGS USED IN MY WORK.\n\n                ROCK ME TO SLEEP, MOTHER.\n\n      \"Backward, turn backward, oh time in your flight,\n      Make me a child again just for tonight.\n    Mother, come back from that echoless shore,\n      Take me again to your arms as of yore;\n      Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,\n      Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;\n      Over my slumbers your loving watch keep,\n      Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.\"\n\n\n         LIFE'S RAILWAY TO HEAVEN.\n\n    Life is like a mountain railroad,\n      With an engineer that's brave;\n    We must make the run successful,\n      From the cradle to the grave;\n    Watch the curves, the fills, the tunnels;\n      Never falter, never quail;\n    Keep your hand upon the throttle,\n      And your eye upon the rail.\n\n  CHORUS:\n\n    Blessed Savior, Thou wilt guide us\n      Till we reach that blissful shore;\n    Where the angels wait to join us\n      In Thy praise forevermore.\n\n    You will roll up grades of trials;\n      You will cross the bridge of strife;\n    See that Christ is your conductor\n      On this lightning train of life;\n    Always mindful of obstructions;\n      Do your duty, never fail;\n    Keep your hand upon the throttle,\n      And your eye upon the rail.\n\n    You will often find obstructions;\n      Look for storms of wind and rain;\n    On a fill, or curve, or trestle,\n      They will almost ditch your train;\n    Put your trust alone in Jesus;\n      Never falter, never fail;\n    Keep your hand upon the throttle,\n      And your eye upon the rail.\n\n    As you roll across the trestle,\n      Spanning Jordan's swelling tide,\n    You behold the Union Depot\n      Into which your train will glide;\n    There you'll meet the Superintendent,\n      God the Father, God the Son\n    With the hearty, joyous plaudit,\n      Weary pilgrim, welcome home.\n\n_By permission of Charlie D Tillman, owner of copyright._\n\n\n             MEET ME THERE.\n\n    1. On the happy golden shore,\n    Where the faithful part no more,\n    When the storms of life are o'er,\n        Meet me there.\n    Where the night dissolves away,\n    Into pure and perfect day,\n    I am going home to stay,\n        Meet me there.\n\n                  CHORUS:\n\n    Meet me there,\n    Meet me there,\n    Where the tree of life is blooming\n        Meet me there.\n    When the storms of life are o'er,\n    On the happy golden shore,\n    Where the faithful part no more,\n    Meet me there.\n\n    2. Here our fondest hopes are vain,\n    Dearest links are rent in twain,\n    But in heav'n no throbs of pain,\n        Meet me there.\n    By the river sparkling bright,\n    In the city of delight\n    Where our faith is lost in sight,\n        Meet me there.\n\n    3. Where the harps of angels ring,\n    And the blest forever sing,\n    In the palace of the king,\n        Meet me there.\n    Where in sweet communion blend,\n    Heart with heart and friend with friend;\n    In a world that ne'er shall end,\n        Meet me there.\n\n_Words and music copyrighted by W. J. Kirkpatrick, Philadelphia._\n\n\n                 GOD BLESS MY BOY\n\n    1. When shining stars their vigils keep,\n    And all the world is hushed in sleep,\n    'Tis then I breathe this pray'r so deep--\n        God bless my boy tonight.\n\n                    CHORUS:\n\n    God bless my boy, my wandering boy,\n      And keep his honor bright;\n    May he come home--no longer roam--\n      God save my boy tonight.\n\n    2. I know not where his head may lie,\n    Perchance beneath the open sky;\n    But this I ween, God's watchful eye\n        Can see my boy tonight.\n\n    3.  As pass the days, the months and years,\n    With all the change, the hopes and fears,\n    God make each step of duty clear,\n        And keep his honor bright.\n\n    4.  And when at last his work is o'er,\n    And earthly toil shall be no more,\n    May angels guide him to the shore\n        Where there shall be no night.\n\n\n                THE GREAT JUDGMENT MORNING.\n\n               Tune--\"Kathleen Mavourneen.\"\n\n    One cold Winter eve when the snow was fast falling\n      In a small, humble cottage a poor mother laid;\n    Although racked with pain she lay there contented\n      With Christ as her Friend and her peace with Him made.\n\n                            CHORUS:\n\n    We shall all meet again on the great judgment morning,\n      The books will be opened, the roll will be called;\n    How sad it will be if forever we're parted,\n      And shut out of heaven for not loving God!\n\n    That mother of yours has gone over death's river.\n      You promised you'd meet her as you knelt by her bed,\n    While the death sweat rolled from her and fell on the pillow;\n      Her memory still speaketh, although she is dead.\n\n    You remember the kiss and the last words she uttered,\n      The arms that embraced you are mouldering away;\n    As you stood by her grave and dropped tears on her coffin,\n      With a vow that you'd meet her, you walked slowly away.\n\n    My brother, my sister, get ready to meet her,\n      The life that you now live is ebbing away,\n    But the life that's to come lasts forever and ever,\n      May we meet ne'er to part on that great judgment day!\n\n\n          MY NAME IN MOTHER'S PRAYER.\n\n    'Twas in the days of careless youth\n      When life seemed fair and bright,\n    When ne'er a tear, nor scarce a fear\n      O'er cast my day or night.\n    'Twas in the quiet even tide,\n      I passed her kneeling there,\n    When just one word I tho't I heard\n      My name, my name in mother's prayer.\n\n                  CHORUS.\n\n    My name, my name in mother's prayer,\n      My name in mother's prayer!\n    There is just one word I tho't I heard\n      My name, my name in mother's prayer.\n\n    I wandered on, but heeded not\n      God's oft repeated call,\n    To turn from sin and live for Him,\n      And trust to Him my all in all.\n    But when at last convinced of sin,\n      I sank in deep despair,\n    My soul awoke when memory spoke\n      My name, my name in mother's prayer.\n\n    That kneeling form, those folded hands,\n      Have vanished in the dust;\n    But still for me for years shall be\n      The memory of her trust.\n    And when I cross dark Jordan's tide,\n      I'll meet her over there;\n    I'll praise the Lord, and bless the word,\n      That word, my name in mother's prayer!\n\n\n               OVER THERE.\n\n    Come all ye scattered race,\n    And the Savior's love embrace;\n    You may see His smiling face\n        Yet with care;\n    He is on the giving hand,\n    Will you come at His command,\n    Will you with the angels stand\n        Over there?\n\n                CHORUS.\n\n    Over there, over there,\n    There's a land of pure delight\n        Over there,\n    We will lay our burdens down,\n    And at Jesus' feet sit down,\n    And we'll wear a starry crown,\n        Over there.\n\n    Yes, He went to Calvary,\n    And they nailed Him to the tree,\n    That poor sinners such as we,\n        He might spare;\n    From the bitter pangs of death,\n    He does with His dying breath,\n    Seal an everlasting rest,\n        Over there.\n\n    God has placed us on the field,\n    To the foe we will not yield,\n    On our tower we will stand,\n        By His care.\n    Wave the Christian's banner high,\n    Hold it up until we die,\n    And go home to live with God,\n        Over there.\n\n\n                   THIS WAY.\n\n    Our life is like a stormy sea,\n      Swept by the gales of sin and grief,\n    While on the windward and the lee,\n      Hangs heavy clouds of unbelief;\n    Out o'er the deep a call we hear,\n      Like harbor bell's inviting voice;\n    It tells the lost that hope is near,\n      And bids the trembling soul rejoice.\n\n                   CHORUS.\n\n    This way, this way, O heart oppressed,\n      So long by storm and tempest driven,\n    This way, this way, lo here is rest,\n      Rings out the harbor bell of heaven.\n\n    O tempted one, look up, be strong;\n      The promise of the Lord is sure,\n    That they shall sing the victor's song,\n      Who faithful to the end endure;\n    God's Holy Spirit comes to thee,\n      Of this abiding love to tell;\n    To blissful port, o'er stormy sea,\n      Calls heaven's inviting harbor bell.\n\n\n        MORE TO BE PITIED THAN CENSURED.\n\n    There's an old concert hall on the bowery\n      Where were assembled together one night\n    A crowd of young fellows carousing,\n      To them life looked happy and bright.\n    At the very next table was seated\n      A girl that had fallen to shame;\n    How the fellows they laughed at her downfall,\n      When they heard an old woman exclaim:\n\n                     CHORUS.\n\n    \"She's more to be pitied than censured,\n      She is more to be loved than despised;\n    She is only a poor girl who ventured\n      On life's rugged path ill-advised.\n    Don't scorn her with words fierce and bitter,\n      Don't laugh at her shame and downfall,\n    Just pause for a moment--consider,\n      That sin was the cause of it all.\"\n\n    There's an old-fashioned church 'round the corner,\n      Where the neighbors all gathered one day,\n    To listen to words from the parson,\n      For a soul that had just passed away.\n    'Twas the same wayward girl from the bowery,\n      Who a life of adventure had led;\n    Did the parson then laugh at her downfall?\n      No, he prayed and wept as he said:\n\n\n                SOME MOTHER'S CHILD.\n\n    At home or away, in the alley or street,\n    Wherever I chance in this wide world to meet\n    A girl that is thoughtless or a boy that is wild,\n    My heart echoes softly: It is some mother's child.\n\n                      CHORUS.\n\n            Some mother's child,\n            Some mother's child,\n            My heart echoes softly:\n            It is some mother's child.\n\n    And when I see those o'er whom long years have rolled,\n    Whose hearts have grown hardened, whose spirits are cold;\n    Be it woman all fallen, or man all defiled,\n    A voice whispers sadly: It is some mother's child.\n\n    No matter how far from right she hath strayed;\n    No matter what inroad dishonor hath made;\n    No matter what elements cankered the pearl;\n    Though tarnished and sullied, she is some mother's girl.\n\n    No matter how deep he is sunken in sin;\n    No matter how much he is shunned by his kin;\n    No matter how low is his standard of joy;\n    Though guilty and loathsome; he is some mother's boy.\n\n    That head hath been pillowed on tenderest breast;\n    That form hath been wept o'er, those lips have been pressed;\n    That soul hath been prayed for in tones sweet and mild;\n    For her sake deal gently with some mother's child.\n\n_Used by permission of Charlie D. Tillman, owner of copyright._\n\n\n                    JUST TELL MY MOTHER.\n\n    'Twas in a Gospel Mission, in a distant western town,\n      The meeting there that night had just begun,\n    When in came a poor lost sinner who by sin had been cast down,\n      Thinking perhaps that he might have some fun;\n    But as he heard of Jesus' love, of pardon full and free,\n      He sought it and the wanderer ceased to roam.\n    And going to his room that night, his heart all filled with joy,\n      He wrote a letter to the folks at home.\n\n                          CHORUS.\n\n    Just tell my dear old mother, my wandering days are o'er,\n      Just tell her that my sins are all forgiven,\n    Just tell her that if on earth we chance to meet no more,\n      Her prayers are answered and we'll meet in Heaven.\n\n    His mother got the message as she lay at death's dark door,\n      Which told her of her boy so far away,\n    How his sins were all forgiven and wandering days were o'er,\n      And that his feet were on the narrow way.\n    Her heart was filled with gladness, as it had not been for years,\n      Her dear old face was all lit up with joy,\n    As on her dying pillow she said amid her tears,\n      God bless and keep my precious darling boy.\n\n    Your mothers have prayed for you, my friends, for many and many a day,\n      Perhaps these days of life will soon be o'er,\n    Come, give your hearts to Jesus, get on the narrow way,\n      And meet her on that happy golden shore.\n    Oh, come just now while still there's room, and pardon free for all.\n      The Savior pleads, oh, do not longer roam.\n    And then with Jesus in your heart, you will send the message\n      To your dear mother, praying still for you at home.\n\n\n                SOON THE DEATH-BELL WILL TOLL.\n\n    When the last Gospel message has been told in your ears,\n    And the last solemn warning has been given you in tears;\n    When hope shall escape from its place in your breast,\n    Oh, where will your poor weary soul find its rest?\n\n                           CHORUS.\n\n    Soon the death-bell will toll--look after your soul;\n    O, sinner be ready, for the death-bell will toll.\n\n    When the darkness of death shall compass you round,\n    When the friends you have loved are all standing around;\n    Unable to save you now from the tomb,\n    Unable to alter your terrible doom.\n\n    When before the white throne of His Judgment you stand,\n    \"What have you to answer?\" the Judge will demand;\n    Oh, terrible moment to be standing alone,\n    When mercy forever and forever is gone.\n\n\n                 THE END OF THE WAY.\n\nThe following beautiful lines were written by a girl in Nova Scotia,\nan invalid for many years:\n\n    My life is a wearisome journey;\n      I'm sick of the dust and the heat;\n    The rays of the sun beat upon me,\n      The briars are wounding my feet.\n    But the city to which I am journeying\n      Will more than my trials repay;\n    All the toils of the road will seem nothing\n      When I get to the end of the way.\n\n    There are so many hills to climb upward,\n      I often am longing for rest,\n    But He who appoints me the pathway\n      Knows what is needed and best.\n    I know in His word He has promised\n      That my strength shall be as my day;\n    And the toils of the road will seem nothing\n      When I get to the end of the way.\n\n    He loves me too well to forsake me,\n      Or give me one trial too much;\n    All His people have been dearly purchased,\n      And Satan can never claim such.\n    By and by I shall see Him and praise Him,\n      In the city of unending day;\n    And the toils of the road will seem nothing\n      When I get to the end of the way.\n\n    When the last feeble steps have been taken,\n      And the gates of the city appear,\n    And the beautiful songs of the angels\n      Float out on my listening ear;\n    When all that now seems so mysterious\n      Will be plain and clear as the day--\n    Yes, the toils of the road will seem nothing\n      When I get to the end of the way.\n\n    Though now I am footsore and weary,\n      I shall rest when I'm safely at home;\n    I know I'll receive a glad welcome,\n      For the Savior Himself has said \"Come.\"\n    So, when I am weary in body,\n      And sinking in spirit I say,\n    All the toils of the road will seem nothing\n      When I get to the end of the way.\n\n    Cooling fountains are there for the thirsty,\n      There are cordials for those who are faint:\n    There are robes that are whiter and purer\n      Than any that fancy can paint.\n    Then I'll try to press hopefully onward,\n      Thinking often through each weary day,\n    The toils of the road will seem nothing\n      When I get to the end of the way.\n\n\n\n\n                               Appendix.\n\n\nThe matter which I have here appended I thought of too much value to\nomit from this volume. The first article is explanatory in itself. The\nsecond is by a prisoner whom I have known for many years. The third\n(regarding Christ in Gethsemane) was written by a prisoner as a letter\nto myself. I hope the reader may profit by the reading of each page.\n\n                                                         E. R. W.\n\n\n                THE PERSONNEL OF PRISON MANAGEMENT.\n\n     Address of C. E. Haddox, warden of the West Virginia\n     penitentiary, to the National Prison Association, at its annual\n     session, Louisville, Ky., Congress of 1903:\n\nThis is the age of industrial development. On every side we see\ncolossal enterprises undertaken and prosecuted to a successful and\nprofitable conclusion.\n\nGreat railroad systems span the continent, carrying millions of\npassengers and countless tons of freight, with safety, celerity and\ndispatch, to the doors of factory, workshop, store and consumer.\n\nImmense industrial enterprises are constantly being projected,\nconsolidated and carried on in a manner to excite the admiration,\nmayhap, the wonder and fear of mankind.\n\nColossal financial transactions amaze the minds of those uninitiated\nto the magnitude and the intricacies of such undertakings.\n\nThe unexplored recesses of the earth are exploited in a manner and on\na scale heretofore undreamed of and unknown, and every department of\nenterprise is carried on to a degree that distinctly stamps this\ndecade as the acme of industrial enterprise and achievements, the\ngolden age of industrial prosperity, and the acquirement of material\nimprovement and material gain.\n\nIf it be asked why such strides have been made along industrial lines,\nthe answer is that it is due to ORGANIZATION AND SPECIALIZATION.\n\nThe PERSONNEL of the management have devoted their lives, their talent\nand their energies to the special work before them. They have been\ndrilled and educated along special lines; they have been deaf and\nblind to outside matters not relevant to the work in hand, and by\nclose and careful study, by unceasing and constant labor, care and\neffort, having evolved, projected and carried on these immense\nenterprises.\n\nThe National Prison Congress at its meeting this year is mindful of\nthe material progress of the country.\n\nThis association is equally ambitious along the lines peculiar to\nitself to obtain from the various penal institutions of the country\nthe highest and best results morally, educationally, reformatively,\nand as an incident, punitively and financially.\n\nHow shall we keep pace in penal improvements with the great material\nprogress of the outside world?\n\nThe answer necessarily must be, that improvements in our department of\nwork must come, as they do elsewhere, by the investigation, the study,\nthe thought and the effort of those who are in actual control, of\nthose who are in a position to see, to observe and to know.\n\nIn other words, the question as to whether prisons are to improve,\nwhether their work shall continue to be of a higher and nobler\ncharacter, whether we are finally and forever to break away from the\ncustoms of the galleys of France, the prisons of Hawes in England, of\nthe Mamertine of Rome and of Rothenburg in Germany, will depend\nutterly, entirely and absolutely upon the personnel of the prison\nmanagement of the country.\n\nProf. Henderson, in his admirable address delivered at the\nPhiladelphia meeting in 1902, on \"The Social Position of the Prison\nWarden,\" says: \"Some institutions have no marked qualities; they have\nwalls, cells, machinery, prisoners, punishments, but no distinct,\nconsistent and rational policy.\"\n\nWhere this is true it means that the worst possible condition of\naffairs exists. Such an institution has the dry rot. It is managed (or\nrather mismanaged) by time servers, too careless to feel the high\nresponsibility devolving upon them, and too listless to acquaint\nthemselves with the many opportunities spread before them to improve\nand keep pace with the onward march of progress.\n\nSuch officers in their abuse, by inaction, of the opportunities\nafforded them, commit \"Crimes against criminals\" and through them\nagainst society.\n\nOn the contrary institutions which have distinct features and\ncharacteristics, have them as the result of the careful investigation,\nthe patient research and thought of those who are in responsible and\nactual control, and these characteristics and features reflect the\nwisdom and intelligence of those who have given their energies and\ntheir lives to the special work before them.\n\n\n                      THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS.\n\nIn the management of penal institutions a Board of Directors or of\nControl is, ordinarily, the nominal head.\n\nBy the laws of most states they are supposed to fix the administration\npolicy, to restrict and define the powers and duties of the officers\nin actual and intimate control.\n\nIn some institutions they meet a day or so each month, in most\ninstitutions not so frequently. Their duties while at the institution\nmay or may not be largely perfunctory, and as they are generally\nactive business men at home in other channels, the day or two a month\nor quarter is apt to be regarded by the unthoughtful as a respite or\nsurcease from other duties. The main duty of a Board of Directors or\nof Control may be said to be the determining of the general policy\nupon which the institution shall be conducted, and a cursory oversight\nof the conduct of its affairs.\n\n\n                             THE WARDEN.\n\nThe warden or superintendent is the one official who can give tone,\nexpression and color to the institution. He is distinctly and\npositively its actual managing head, and upon his intelligence,\ninterest, zeal, tact and discretion will depend, almost entirely, its\nweal or its woe.\n\nHe must be a man of intelligence, and be willing and anxious to\nincrease his fund of knowledge and information.\n\nHe should be a profound student not only of the ordinary subjects that\nattract the student, but of prison systems, of laws, business,\ngovernment, society as it exists, and of human nature in all its many\nphases.\n\n\n                        HE MUST BE AN ORGANIZER.\n\nNo difference how elaborate a system may be found in any institution\nof this kind, the warden will always be an intensely busy and greatly\noccupied officer.\n\nIf he would prevent chaos and confusion and obtain from every official\nthe highest and best work of which he is capable, he must organize\nevery department thoroughly. Every officer and every inmate must know\nhis exact duties, so far as it is possible to know them, and be made\nresponsible for those duties and the warden must be enabled to\nappreciate a high order of talent and the accomplishment of good work,\nand to locate the blame for omissions and short comings, and provide\nfor their correction.\n\nThorough system in every detail will conserve the capacities of all\nhis subordinates and leave him in a measure free to observe the actual\nconditions and to plan and to put into effect improvements along\nmoral, industrial, physical and financial lines.\n\n\n                    HE MUST BE A FINANCIER.\n\nThe financial question in every prison in the land is an extremely\nimportant one. Funds for prisons are doled out grudgingly, and the\ndemand for absolutely necessary purposes is always far greater than\nthe supply.\n\nA warden performs no more important function than when he sees that\nthe funds of the institution are so used as to effect the highest\npossible results, and that all the forces of the prison are so\nenergized and conserved as to permit, under ordinary conditions, a\nsatisfactory and proper earning and economizing power. With the many\ndemands made upon him for means for increasing the usefulness of his\ninstitution, a high order of financial aptitude is an absolutely\nnecessary characteristic in a successful warden.\n\n\n                          DISCIPLINE.\n\nDiscipline in a prison is its first requisite. Nothing can be\naccomplished until officers and convicts are under its sway and\ncontrol.\n\nThe warden who would have control of those under him must himself at\nall times, be under self control.\n\nThe maxim \"No one knows how to command who has not first learned how\nto obey,\" is a trite and a true one. The population of a prison is\nmade up of a heterogeneous collection of people whose first instincts\nhave been and are, not to obey.\n\nTo bring such people into habits of obedience and control requires the\nhighest type of skill, tact and discretion. Punishments and reward\nmust be so blended and combined as to effect the needful results with\nthe least possible friction, and in the most humane and rational\nmanner possible.\n\nNo warden can afford to delegate the matter of enforcing discipline\nentirely or partly, if at all, to another. His first duty to himself,\nthat he may know actual conditions as they exist, is to preside over\nor assist in, the trial of offenders and to order discipline.\n\nIndividual treatment is a necessity in our dealings with delinquents,\nand a study of the many phases of delinquency is a prime requisite in\na successful warden's repertoire.\n\nBrainard F. Smith says: \"Many a prisoner has been reformed--or, if not\nreformed, made a better prisoner--by punishment.\"\n\nWill the warden have any higher duty to perform than to face his\ndelinquent delinquents and to order in merciful severity, rational\npunishments for their short-comings?\n\nBut a warden's disciplinary powers are apt to be taxed more severely\nin another direction. The great problem ordinarily, is not so much the\ndiscipline of convicts as that of subordinate officers. If subordinate\nofficers will obey the spirit and the letter of the rules, the convict\nhas the potential influence of a powerful example to aid him. \"Like\nmaster like man.\"\n\nIn institutions where officers are appointed solely with reference to\ntheir fitness, comparatively little trouble should be had in the\nmatter of proper official discipline. But where places are given to\nheelers, ward-workers and political strikers, the matter of efficient\ndiscipline is a question of grave concern to the warden. In the\nabsence of better material, however, he must address himself to\norganizing what he has to the highest efficiency possible, and insist\nand require a rigid regimen and adhere to his demands and requirements\nwith Spartan firmness.\n\n\n                         THE PRISON SCHOOL.\n\nThe educational work of a prison is of the highest, I may say, of the\nfirst importance. The education of the hands to work comes naturally,\npartly as an incident of the necessary work carried on in prison.\n\nNearly all convicts are densely ignorant. The polished, scholarly,\nshrewd criminal of whom we hear so much, and to whom the papers and\nbooks give so much prominence, is the exception, not the rule, in\nprison.\n\nIf the prison is to have a reformatory feature, it must come very\nlargely through the school. Many prison schools are such only in name.\nThe work accomplished is very meager. The results are very\nunsatisfactory.\n\nTo no part of prison work should a warden address himself with more\nardor and determination than so to organize the prison school as to\nmake it the great positive factor in dispelling ignorance and its\nattendant viciousness, and in quickening and enlivening the moral\nsense in those whose moral judgment is exceedingly obtuse.\n\nThe course of study in a prison school is necessarily a very\nelementary one, and unless followed by a supplementary course of\nreading and study, will be of little permanent and practical benefit.\nMany prison libraries, largely the result of indiscriminate and\nheterogeneous donations of all kinds of literature, good, bad and\nindifferent, chiefly the latter, are not in a position to be a\npositive force.\n\nLet the warden see that his library is so arranged, classified and\nused as to be a source of information, profit, help and pleasure to\nthe inmates, and that a course of reading along rational lines is\nlaid out, encouraged, and, if possible, adhered to, in order that the\npreliminary school course may not have been in vain.\n\n\n                           COURAGE NEEDED.\n\nThe warden must be a man of courage. I do not refer to the kind of\ncourage necessary to face a regiment of depraved and wicked men shorn\nof their power and their stimulus to do evil, but that high moral\ncourage necessary to clean the Augean stables of abuses of customs, to\nreverse policies of long standing that are nevertheless wrong in\nprinciple and in practice, to fight against unjust, improper and\nunwise legislative propositions concerning his institution; the kind\nof courage that prompted the chaplain in Chas. Reade's \"NEVER TOO LATE\nTO MEND,\" to fight and destroy the iniquitous prison system of Keeper\nHawes and his minions; the courage that will keep to the fore-front a\npersistent opposition to prostituting penitentiaries into eleemosynary\ninstitutions and political cribs and feeding troughs for political\nstrikers.\n\nHe must have the courage to weed out and eliminate useless barnacles\nin the shape of incompetent and worthless employes, and substitute in\ntheir stead men of capacity, character and intelligence, who are in\nlove with their work and believe in its dignity and usefulness; the\ncourage to face demagogues in their efforts to take from the prison\nits educative, moral, reformatory and economic force, the right of the\nunfortunate inmates to learn the gospel of labor under right and just\nconditions.\n\n\n                     OPTIMISM NECESSARY.\n\nThe warden needs to be intensely optimistic. He must have a reserve\nfund of enthusiasm. He must believe profoundly in the high character\nof his office and educate others constantly to believe in it. The\nignorance of the great mass of the people as to the real function of\npenitentiaries and the methods by which they are carried on is amazing\nand mortifying to prison officials.\n\nA part of the warden's mission is to acquaint the outside world with\nconditions as they exist inside, and to inspire the interest and\nsupport of the general public in measures for bettering and improving\nprison conditions. Legislative bodies especially, need to be brought\ninto closer relations and the law makers made to realize their duty to\nthe public and the convict in the enactment of wise, proper and\nrighteous legislation.\n\nLongfellow, in his beautiful poem, \"THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP,\" tells\nwhy the master builder achieved success. It was because\n\n    \"His heart was in the work and the heart\n        Giveth grace to every art.\"\n\nThe warden's heart must be in his work. His whole soul must be\nanimated and permeated with an honest and sincere desire to bring\npenology up to a higher and nobler standard.\n\nHe must have a reserve force of enthusiasm that will not be daunted\nand destroyed by temporary failures or the lapses of some discharged\nor pardoned convicts, who, in spite of care and pains, will return to\ntheir evil ways. The enthusiasm that can bear the harsh and ignorant\ncriticism and misrepresentations incident to his work; the enthusiasm\nthat in its contagion will inoculate directors, subordinate officers,\nthe press and the people with a desire for more light on penal\nproblems and a purpose to be governed by that light; the enthusiasm\nthat will beget great patience for the exacting, difficult and trying\nproblems before him; that will make him believe that \"a convict saved\nis a man made\"; that will make him believe with the great English\nnovelist \"It is never too late to mend,\" and that as infinite care and\npains finally brought Robinson, the twice convicted thief, up to the\nestate of honest manhood, so, infinite care and pains should be\nexerted with every man under his charge.\n\nPessimism has no rightful place in a penitentiary. In the language of\nSocrates, \"Why should we who are never angry at an ill-conditioned\nbody, always be angry with an ill-conditioned soul?\"\n\nThe ignorant Hawes believed in the profitless crank, the black-hole,\nthe deprivation of food, of bed, of clothing, the tortures of the\nwaist jacket and the collar, and a sign over the door, \"ABANDON HOPE\nALL YE WHO ENTER HERE.\"\n\nThe twentieth century warden believes in the gospel of productive\nlabor, of education of hand, head and heart, in the deprivation of\nprivileges, largely as punishment, the segregation of the desperate\nand nearly hopeless, the enlightenment of an all-powerful, all\npotential, all influential example and the motto of Pope Clement, \"It\nis of little advantage to restrain criminals by punishment unless you\nreform them with training and teaching.\"\n\n\n                            THE CHAPLAIN.\n\nThe chaplain occupies an extremely important but delicate position in\nprison management. It is possible for him to be of vast influence and\npower for good.\n\nThe chaplain needs to be a man of large heart, aided by an abundance\nof sound common sense. He needs to bear in mind constantly, in the\ndifficult and delicate work he is called upon to perform, that the\ndiscipline of the prison must be upheld and enforced.\n\nAssociate officers are frequently disturbed with the fear that the\nchaplain's influence will subvert the discipline of the prison; that\nthe shrewd, unprincipled convicts by pouring into his ears their\nimaginary tales of woe, may succeed in working him.\n\nThe chaplain's first requirement, if he would succeed, is not to lose\nsight of the majesty of the law and of the prison rules.\n\nThe chaplain and the warden should go hand in hand, the one sustaining\nthe other. They need to have a perfect understanding, neither\nmistrusting the other. Frequent conferences ought to enable them to\nproceed along proper lines. The chaplain's opportunities are\nlimitless. I do not undertake to say what direction his duties shall\ntake him. That will be discussed fully in the Chaplain's Association.\n\nIt is personal, individual work that counts in a prison. All the\nchaplain's work should be thought out beforehand, be methodical,\npremeditated, intentional, systematic and thorough. His chapel service\nshould be rational, of the proper length, with exercises, song service\nand preaching service carefully chosen. There should be no room in a\nprison service for the spectacular, the highly emotional and the\nhaphazard sermons and addresses of a chance visitor. A reasonably\nrigid censorship ought to be exercised over the contributions of\noutsiders to the chapel service.\n\nThe influence of sight seers and idle visitors to prisons, always bad,\nreaches the acme of its perniciousness in the chapel service, if\nunrestrained and unguided by prison officials of experience and\nfirmness, who alone are in a position to know that sickly\nsentimentality is the worst possible pabulum to offer men already too\neager to justify their evil deeds.\n\n\n                              THE PHYSICIAN.\n\nA physician's duties in a prison are necessarily onerous, important\nand difficult. Convicts are constantly claiming that they are unable\nphysically to do the work assigned them. No one can determine the\ntruthfulness of their statements except the physician, and to\ndetermine whether the convict is really ill or exercising his usual\nfinesse to shirk his duties, requires keen judgment of human nature as\nwell as an accurate knowledge of his profession.\n\nThe convict, housed and hemmed in, is peculiarly susceptible to\nhallucinations and to thinking that he is afflicted with imaginary\nills.\n\nA physician needs a large fund of good judgment, will-power and common\nsense to combat successfully with this class of people. How far he\nshould use some of the subterfuges supposed to be employed by\nphysicians in the outside world in dealing with people afflicted with\nhypochondria, I am unable to say, but a certain amount of cheerfulness\ncoupled with firmness is undoubtedly of great value.\n\n\n                             SUBORDINATE OFFICERS.\n\nThe subordinate officers of a prison are very important factors in the\nmanagement of a prison. They come in actual, continual, personal\ncontact with the men.\n\nNo difference how capable and zealous may be the warden and his\ndeputy, unless they have men of character, zeal, intelligence and\ndiscretion to carry out their orders and wishes faithfully and well,\nall their plans will come to naught.\n\nGuards, keepers and watchmen should be of good moral character. It is\nuseless to talk about reforming convicts unless they have continually\nthe benefit of good examples set before them. Precept amounts to\nnothing unless re-enforced by good examples.\n\nThey should be educated and intelligent.\n\nTheir duties are largely discretionary, and in their contact with\nconvicts a high order of intelligence is necessary to know the right\nthing to do. Strict integrity and truthfulness are prime requisites.\nAn officer's word should be beyond question and he should be\nabsolutely impartial in his dealings with his men.\n\nNo special system will bring the highest results with any kind of men\nbehind it. Any system with men of character, conscience and capacity\nwill achieve great good. Any system with men of bad character,\nignorant, careless and indifferent, will fall to the ground.\n\nA common impression prevails that any one is good enough for a prison\nguard, and if he is too old, too feeble and decrepit or too lazy for\nother work, his political strikers will try to unload him on the\npenitentiary authorities.\n\nPrison Directors, Wardens and all in authority should set their faces\nresolutely against this erroneous and terribly harmful idea. Partisan\npolitics should not be a factor in the appointment or the retention of\nany prison officer. All subordinates should be appointed under civil\nservice rules and be required to pass a civil service examination, and\nafter entering upon his duties be required to take up a course of\nstudy on penological questions and problems and be otherwise carefully\nschooled and drilled along the lines of their work. If time\ndemonstrates their unfitness for the position they should be summarily\nremoved. If they manifest an aptitude and an interest in their work\nthey should be encouraged, promoted and protected against removal for\npartisan reasons.\n\nWhenever directors in banks are elected with reference to their\npolitical proclivities and not with reference to their business\nsagacity, it will be proper to select prison officials for the same\nreason.\n\nWhenever great business firms discharge their managers because their\npolitical views do not coincide with those of the owners, then and not\ntill then should prison officials step down and out for political\nreasons.\n\nWhat would be thought of directors of a business enterprise or the\nregents of a university who selected their business manager, their\nteachers, with regard to their views on finance or on the tariff, or\nwho would remove a faithful, efficient and capable servant after years\nof experience in his work, merely because he did not coincide with the\npolitical views of the majority of his directors in a matter in no way\ngermane to his work?\n\nAs Boards of Directors spend but a small percentage of their time at\nthe institutions they control, it necessarily takes them years to get\na clear insight into all the details of its work, and to make a change\njust when, through the process of time, the director becomes fitted\nfor his work, is the height of unwisdom and folly. Boards of Charity\nand Correction having charge of all the institutions in the State\nwould certainly be much more desirable. Such officers could devote\ntheir entire time and attention to the work, and thus be able to give\nall the institutions of the State uniform treatment and attention.\nBoards of Directors or of Control should be appointed and reappointed\nas long as they are efficient and manifest an interest in the work.\n\nAnd so with all other officers from the warden down, and each should\nfeel and know that faithfulness and efficiency is the only standard,\nand that they would not be expected, required or permitted to weaken\ntheir influence or their energies by undue or active participations in\npolitical effort or political manipulations.\n\nThe surest sign of unfitness for prison work and lack of interest in\nthe work is an undue activity in political caucuses and conventions.\nThe official practically advertises that he cannot hope to hold his\nplace on account of his efficiency, but expects to do so because of\nhis services as a political henchman.\n\n\n                       THE DEMANDS OF THE AGE.\n\nAs this age demands a high order of talent and effort in the\nindustrial, so it should demand and require great ability and power in\nthe penal world.\n\nThe third of a century of the life of the National Prison Congress has\nwitnessed great progress in the domain over which it has advisory\npower. Many problems pressing for solution demand the highest\nfunctions of those in control.\n\nDo punishments deter men from crime?\n\nDo the universal customs of the times foster and beget much of the\ncrime committed?\n\nDoes war beget murder elsewhere?\n\nIs social vengeance a failure, and are other means necessary to\nprevent crime?\n\nShould not executives now clothed with power to terminate or shorten\nsentences of imprisonment also have power to lengthen terms of\nimprisonment or to change from a definite to an indefinite term\nwhenever they become in possession of facts regarding the convict's\nprevious life or present character, which were unknown to the\nsentencing judge?\n\nShould not United States prisoners incarcerated in the various state\nprisons have the restrictions of the indeterminate sentence and the\nparole, thus securing a uniform system of treatment for all prisoners\nand greatly promoting the discipline?\n\nShould we go back of the commission of crimes and ascertain if the\nState itself is not committing a crime in imposing and permitting\nconditions that beget crime?\n\nShould not the pardoning power be exercised frequently before the\nconvicted man ever reaches the prison at all? Could not many a man be\nsaved by being put on probation from the start, who otherwise would be\nin great danger of being lost?\n\nDoes the discipline of prisons have anything to do with the commission\nof offenses by convicts when released? Does the enforced restraint\nexerted to the very last moment of his release and then wholly\nrelaxed, cause the released convict to swing to the other extreme like\nJean Valjean, who after nineteen years of imprisonment for stealing a\nloaf of bread and an attempt to escape, robbed his benefactor, the\nBishop, of his plate, and upon being forgiven robbed little Gervais of\nhis forty sou piece, but afterward got his bearings, attained his\nbalance and lived an honorable life?\n\nShould any prisoner ever be released at the prison door, or should he\nnot for his own sake as well as society's be required to live a period\non probation and under oversight, subject to return for violations; in\nother words, should not paroles be, under proper restrictions, the\nuniversal and only rule?\n\nTo the solution of these and countless other problems let the highest\norder of talent, the best combination of head, heart and brain be\nsummoned: let every prison be a school for study and investigation,\nand be engineered and controlled by men of skill, drilled and educated\nalong these lines, and who are animated by a desire to contribute\ntheir full share towards the upbuilding and uplifting of the race and\nthe amelioration of the woes that beset mankind.\n\n\n                        MEDITATIONS OF A PRISONER.\n\n                              PREFACE.\n\n     To any one who may read these lines I will say: Do not criticise;\n     I know you will find many mistakes, but I hope you will remember\n     they are written by one who has not had the advantage of an\n     education. My school days ended when I was nine years old.\n     Knowing this, I hope you will excuse mistakes. Respectfully\n     yours,\n\n                                                         E. S. K.\n\nI often wonder if the busy world ever gives a thought to the men\nincarcerated in places made for the punishment of crime and\nreformation of criminals, but often failing of reaching the desired\nresult. Why is this failure? It must be from defect in the law or\nprison discipline. Some think perhaps the rigid enforcement of the law\nin its severest way is right, and that the prisoner should be shown no\nmercy. But this is wrong in every detail and should be just the\nreverse, so far as consistent with good order and discipline.\n\nA judge in sentencing a prisoner should give a sentence consistent\nwith justice and mercy, regardless of public sentiment, considering\nhis own judgment, and not the possible consequences of his act on his\nfuture. Until this is more generally practiced, I am afraid there will\nbe many too severe sentences passed on minor criminals and first\noffenders, as now, which will work to the injury of the convicted\ninstead of his reformation. In my humble opinion, one year would give\nthe lesson desired to many a novice in crime who is now serving from\nthree to ten years. It should be remembered that short sentences give\na novice in crime a wholesome dread of the law and fear of prison\nlife, while custom and association with criminals tend to harden. The\ncases of old offenders, require more severity as regards time of\nconfinement. Nor can we say to the jurors--or, rather, gentlemen of\nthe jury--be very careful of what you do. Don't treat the trust you\nhave in charge too lightly; give it all the consideration you are\nmasters of. Remember you have the liberty, and, perhaps the life, of\nyour fellowman at stake. Be very careful of what you do. Allow no\npersonal motive to interfere with your duty, for, if we believe in the\nBible, those who do so will answer in the hereafter for actions in\nthis life. Beware, then, of how you mete out justice to your\nfellowman. Do unto others as you would have others do unto you. Weigh\nwell the evidence given against the prisoner. If you find that there\nis a motive on the part of the witnesses to convict the prisoner being\ntried, you may rest assured they will trifle with the truth. In such\ncases a juror should try and put himself in the defendant's place and\ntry to assume his feelings and condition, as much as possible, and see\nhow he would act in a like case. If all jurors would do this, I think\nthey would give a just and true verdict in nearly all cases. But I\nfear as things are now they let the press have too much weight with\nthe rendering of a just verdict, and it may be of what their friends\nwill say to them if they have a different opinion. Yet the man who\ndoes such a thing is a coward, a devil incarnate, and unfit to be at\nlarge. Such action may be the cause of making a criminal out of a so\nfar really honest man. May God forgive them who recklessly tamper\nwith the liberty of their fellowman. Some may think I am not for\npunishment of crime. If so, they are wrong. I believe in punishment of\ncrime. But I believe in tempering justice with mercy. There should be\nno lingering doubt in a person's mind when he gives his verdict\nagainst the prisoner. It is a very easy thing to place a man in\nprison, but oh! so hard to get him out. A lie sworn to and believed is\none of the hardest things in the world to get righted. And I know from\npersonal experience what it is. Though it seems hard to say a lie is\nmore readily believed against a person charged with a crime than the\ntruth, yet it seems easier to a great many to believe bad rather than\ngood of their neighbor. Yet, thank God, it is not so with all. We have\nmany noble and true Christians yet in this vale of tears--gentlemen\nand ladies who practice what they say by many kindly acts to the poor,\nunhappy men who are unfortunate enough to get behind prison bars. God\nbless them for such acts. It does not hurt them, and gives to the\nunhappy prisoner a little happiness--a ray of sunshine through the\nclouds that surround him. Continue your noble work. You will be the\ngainer in the end, from the knowledge that you have done in the Lord's\nwork, if in no other way. Oh, could you see the happiness beam from\nthe eyes of some of those here, after the call of some who take\nfriendly interest in them, you would know the good they are doing.\nOthers seem to say: Oh, well, I am forgotten by all. Poor heart; what\na sad lot. It would seem the sooner that death ended their misery the\nbetter. But while there is life there is hope. I must say that many\nladies of C---- are very kind in giving up their own pleasures on\nSundays that prisoners in this prison may have some little change in\ntheir life. The visiting chaplains always bring a choir with them, and\nto them we give our heartfelt thanks, with a God bless you. I love to\nread of the progress made in these penal institutions where reform is\npracticed. I am sure the prisoners must take an interest in it all,\nfor it is all for their own good. The Stillwater prison and Elmira\nprison must be models of neatness and good order, with a perfect\nsystem of discipline. It would be well for all prisons to copy them.\nIf prisons are supposed to be erected for the purpose of reformation,\nwhy not make them in reality what they are intended to be? Of course,\nthere are many different kinds of crime committed by men of different\ntemperaments, all of which are thoroughly understood, or as nearly as\npossible. For example, take the greatest crime committed in the eyes\nof the law--murder--which is often called murder when there is no\nground for it. The public outcry when one man is unfortunate enough to\ntake the life of another at a time when he may have every reason to\nbelieve his own life is in the greatest danger. The cry is raised by\nsome one, possibly an eye-witness--Murder! It is taken up by the press\nand conveyed to every one, and possibly a slight coloring given to it.\nThe people believe it all. The consequence is the public mind is\nprejudiced against the prisoner, and it takes a great amount of proof\nby the defendant to change that belief, and should he not be able to\nproduce this evidence, in spite of all he can say he is convicted of\nthe crime of murder, when in reality he is guilty of manslaughter, if\nanything. For, no matter how truthful a man he may be known to be, his\nword, unsustained by evidence, is not accepted; while, on the other\nside, no matter how untruthful a witness be known to be, he is given\ncredit for the truth. What kind of a state of affairs is this? No\nwonder we often hear the cry go up from some poor wounded or crushed\nheart saying: O, God, is there no mercy left in man? Is humanity\nwholly dead? Must death overtake me here? Shunned I am by all whom I\nonce called friends--wife, children, it may be a brother--but never by\na mother, God bless her.\n\nLet us take a look at this class of sufferers. What will we find them?\nIdle? No. They are as a rule men attending to their work and\nsubmitting to all the courtesies of life, only asking the same in\nreturn. Surely, such cannot be very bad men, who, hearing the cry of\ndistress, respond at once to the appeal. I know some such to have a\nheart as tender as a woman. Yet you will shut them up, it may be\nforever. Don't understand me to say that murder is not committed. Of\ncourse it is, and the law should deal with it accordingly. All true\nmen regret the taking of human life, even on the field of battle. How\nmuch more so under other circumstances? And the causes are many which\nmake men do this; some of them hard to understand, may be. In many\ncases of this kind they deserve punishment and should be punished.\nBut, for God's sake, let the punishment be consistent with justice and\nmercy. If ten years is not sufficient punishment to make man control\nhimself in future, why not be merciful and kill him at once? For as we\nhope for mercy, so must we show it to others. All other crimes should\nbe dealt with accordingly. Give a man a chance to reclaim himself.\nShould he return to a life of crime in preference to an honest one,\nthe law has its remedy and can act accordingly. This is well worth a\ntrial, and by all means should be given one. But I hear some one who\nnever gave these things a thought say: How is this to be done? I will\nanswer, Very easily, if it receive the support of our legislative\nbody, by the recommendation of the state governor. Provide your\nprisons with workshops of different kinds--provide them with schools,\nand teach the prisoners how to make a living by some useful trade.\nGive them a chance to improve themselves by an education. Make the\nprison a place of reformation, one of improvement as well as\npunishment, and instead of increasing crime you will reduce it, which\nshould be the aim of all having the good of their fellowman at heart,\nand society will be the gainer. I would give a prisoner who would show\nby his conduct a spirit of reform a parole after half of his time,\nwith conditions attached, as is done in the Minnesota state prison, so\nthat, should he fall back into his old way of living, he would be\nreturned to prison to serve out the remainder of his sentence. By this\nmeans you to all intents and purposes hold a power over him, and he\nwill be very careful as to what he is about. This habit in time will\ngrow upon him and be the cause of making him a good citizen and\ntrustworthy member of society. To men serving life sentences I would,\non the recommendation of the prison warden, give a parole after\nmanslaughter sentence has been served. This is a class of men that\ndeserve some looking after by the kindly interest of humane persons.\nGive them hope and encouragement. Do not leave them to their own\nmorbid thoughts; you cannot tell what drove them to an act they will\nregret, whether in or out of prison. If hasty once, it is no reason to\nsuppose they will be so again. Why not, then, look after them? Let\nsome of you Christian people talk with them, and if you find they\nought to be assisted, help them. You know not what good you may do,\nand without such aid a poor and friendless man in prison is without\nhope. Will you, as Christians, let him die believing the word\nChristianity a mockery? God forbid. I know there are many good\nChristians that feel and mean what they say. But I am afraid that\nmany of the less courageous are deterred from doing all they would\nlike to do by the sneers of the hard, cruel world. But this should\nonly spur you on. If you feel you are right, push on; do not stop half\nway.\n\nIn connection with the parole law we should have our prisoners graded\nas first, second and third class, giving to the second grade or class\nadvantages above the third, and to the first above the second, giving\nthem a motive to reform their ways while yet in prison, and their\npartial liberty from the first class by parole. By this means you\ninstill into the prisoner a habit for good which in time will take\nroot and prove a blessing, not only to the prisoner, but also a source\nof pleasure to those bringing it about. It must be expected that some\nwill fall again; but why should the many suffer for the few? I have\nheard and read such sayings as this: The worst men are the best\nbehaved while in prison if there is anything to be gained by it. I\ndispute this. No man can control or hide his real nature for any great\nlength of time. Nature is bound to come to the surface sooner or\nlater. The officers and guards of a prison should be men strict in the\nenforcement of the prison rules, humane and just in all their actions,\nmen who by their own actions and deportment will gain and hold the\nrespect of those under their charge. They should reward the good as\nwell as punish the evil in men. It would, in my humble opinion, be\nnothing but true justice to the prisoner to put the whole power of\npardoning, commuting and paroling prisoners in the hands of the\ngovernor. I do not say a judge will not give justice where clemency is\nasked. But it may be the case that a judge on the board of pardons has\nsentenced the prisoner, and probably in some way became prejudiced\nagainst the applicant, and it might be the cause of influencing his\nvote; consequently, it would look like a piece of injustice to the\nprisoner to allow that judge to sit on his case. I think it would be\nwell for a governor to make himself perfectly acquainted with all\npertaining to the mode of life of the prisoners, as much as possible.\nIt ought to be remembered that when the prison doors close on a man\nyour duty is only half done to yourself, the prisoner and society at\nlarge. He needs looking after mentally, morally and physically. Do not\nleave him to his own morbid thoughts, but help him to forget his\nsurroundings as much as possible. Give him hope, for without hope we\nare lost to ourselves and the world. It is possible some will say they\nought to be; but it must be a very heartless person who makes this\nremark. Remember, while you are walking about to-day, feeling\nself-conscious of your own strength to resist any and everything in\nthe line of temptation, the time may come when you will lose control\nof yourself; or, it may be, some one dear to you will fall. In such\ncases, how many excuses you can find for yourself or him. Can you find\nnone for those now suffering for the same? I feel impelled by some\npower to speak of those very people in a few lines. Perhaps it may\ncatch their eye. Why will you follow one to prison with hate, malice\nand persecution, one who would not harm a single hair of your head,\none who never had or has a single bitter thought against you, one that\nnightly asks God's protection to you and yours? And yet you persecute\nhim, or it may be them, with all the might you can. Is it not enough\nthat he has lost home, friends, wife, children and happiness at one\nfalse move? Is it not enough that he is condemned to a living death,\nhearing every hour of the day the clang of the iron bars that shut him\nout from the world, that separate him from all he loves? I say to you,\nis this not enough to satisfy the most bitter feelings of any avowed\nenemy? It ought to be. Yes, this ought to satisfy you without trying\nto obliterate the memory of the father from the child's heart and\nwithout denying him the privilege of communicating with them; without\ndenying him the pleasure of doing something for them and of one day\nseeing them, which is all he has left to live for. To all to whom\nthese lines refer, who read them, I will say, change all this. Ask\nGod's help to give you strength to do right. In time you will feel a\nrestful peace come to you, and it will make you content, if not happy.\nTry this, and may God in his mercy show you the way. And to all\nprisoners who may be suffering from the persecution of injustice by\nothers, I will say the same. Say with all your heart: God forgive\nthem, they know not what they do. And you will always find a comfort\nin helping one another. For as we hope to be forgiven, so must we\nforgive. What use in saying the Lord's prayer--Forgive us our\ntrespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us? We must\nconsider well the meaning of those lines, and if we cannot or do not\ncomply with all they mean it is better for us not to use them. I thank\nGod from my heart, I can say I forgive all my enemies. I have nothing\nbut a kindly feeling for all mankind. I do not mean to say that I am\nnot ruffled at times, for I am; I would not be human if I were not.\n\nThere is one class of men who come to prison that should command the\nattention of our lawmakers--namely, married men. Not on their own\naccount, for they should pay the penalty of the law as well as\nanother, but on account of their families. It must be remembered that\nwhen you take away the father and supporter of a family you leave them\nwithout the means of support; and if the mother happens to be a sick\nand weakly person, what is to become of them?\n\nTo be sure, we have the orphans' home and the alms-house, but this is\nonly taxing more heavily the already over-burdened taxpayers of the\ncountry. Then it would be a commendable act of the legislative bodies\nto enact laws to provide for the improvement of such married men and\ngive the earnings of their labor to their families. This, to me, looks\nreasonable and just, and easy of accomplishment, and should be acted\nupon by all means. Let me draw you a picture from my imagination: We\nwill visit a family who are in easy circumstances these cold nights.\nWhat do we see? Well-clad and well-fed children, a happy, contented\nlook rests upon the wife's and husband's faces. Why should it not be\nso? They have plenty to eat and wear; a full bin of coal. Again, visit\none where the husband may be languishing behind the prison bars, but\nof the same class. It is not so cheerful, but still no want is felt,\nand the father and husband, although chafing at confinement, feels\nthat his family is not in want. This, of course, will be a consolation\nto him. Now let us visit another house, where they have always lived\nfrom hand to mouth. The father is gone. The mother and children, poor\nsouls, ill-clad, ill-fed, and, my God, it may be, no fire. What a\npicture to contemplate. It makes me shudder to think of it. Now come\nwith me behind the prison bars and see the head of this family.\nKnowing the want and needs of his family, and knowing how impossible\nit is for him to alleviate their suffering, it is enough to drive a\nman insane. But, on the other hand, if this man could earn something\nfor his family's support, it would relieve his mind of a heavy burden.\nThink well of this, and in the name of God change the law that\ncertainly works contrary to what it was intended for. As it now\nstands, you simply provide punishment for the criminals. In so doing\nyou cause untold suffering and shame to innocent ones. In God's name,\nlet it cease to be so. Now, then, for fear I may tire the reader, I\nwill close. Very respectfully,\n\n                                                               E.\n\n\n                       CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE.\n\n                                               ---- State Prison.\n\n                                                January 18, 1886.\n\n  Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton,\n                 Prison Evangelist.\n\n  My Dearest Sister:--\n\n    \"What might a single mind may wield,\n    With Truth for sword and Faith for shield,\n      And Hope to lead the way:\n    Thus all high triumphs are obtained,\n    From evil good--as God ordained\n      The night before the day!\"\n\n\"And being in an agony, He prayed.\"--St. Luke 22:44.\n\nWhen the last supper was over, and the last hymn had been sung, our\nLord and His Apostles--with the one traitor fatally absent from their\nnumber--went out of the city gate, and down the steep valley of the\nKidron to the green slope of Olivet beyond it. Solemn and sad was that\nlast walk together; and a weight of mysterious awe sank like lead upon\nthe hearts of those few poor Galileans as in almost unbroken\nsilence,--through the deep hush of the Oriental night,--through the\ndark shadows of the ancient olive-trees,--through the broken gleams of\nthe Paschal moonlight,--they followed Him, their Lord and Master, who,\nwith bowed head and sorrowing heart, walked before them to His willing\ndoom.\n\nThat night they did not return as usual to Bethany, but stopped at the\nlittle familiar garden of Gethsemane, or \"the oilpress.\" Jesus knew\nthat the hour of His uttermost humiliation was near,--that from this\nmoment till the utterance of that great cry which broke His heart,\nnothing remained for Him on earth, save all that the human frame can\ntolerate of torturing pain, and all that the human soul can bear of\npoignant anguish--till in that torment of body and desolation of soul,\neven the high and radiant serenity of His divine spirit should suffer\na short but terrible eclipse. One thing alone remained before that\nshort hour began; a short space was left Him, and in that space He had\nto brace His body, to nerve His soul, to calm His spirit by prayer and\nsolitude, until all that is evil in the power of evil should wreak its\nworst upon His innocent and holy head. And He had to face that\nhour,--to win that victory,--as all the darkest hours must be faced,\nas all the hardest victories must be won--alone. It was not that He\nwas above the need of sympathy,--no noble soul is;--and perhaps the\nnoblest need it most. Though His friends did but sleep, while the\ntraitor toiled, yet it helped Him in His hour of darkness to feel at\nleast that they were near and that those were nearest who loved Him\nmost. \"Stay here,\" He said to the little group, \"while I go yonder and\npray.\" Leaving them to sleep, each wrapped in his outer garment on the\ngrass, He took Peter and James and John, the chosen of the chosen, and\nwent about a stone's-throw off. But soon even _their_ presence was\nmore than He could endure. A grief beyond utterance, a struggle beyond\nendurance, a horror of great darkness, overmastered Him, as with the\nsinking swoon of an anticipated death. He must be yet more alone, and\nalone with God. Reluctantly He tore Himself away from their sustaining\ntenderness, and amid the dark-brown trunks of those gnarled trees\nwithdrew from the moonlight into the deeper shade, where solitude\nmight be for Him the audience-chamber of His Heavenly Father. And\nthere, till slumber overpowered them, His three beloved Apostles were\nconscious how dreadful was the paroxysm through which He passed. They\nsaw Him sometimes with head bowed upon His knees, sometimes lying on\nHis face in prostrate suffering upon the ground. And though amazement\nand sore distress fell on them,--though the whole place seemed to be\nhaunted by Presences of good and evil struggling in mighty but silent\ncontest for the eternal victory,--yet, before they sank under the\noppression of troubled slumber, they knew that they had been the dim\nwitnesses of an unutterable agony, in which the drops of anguish which\ndropped from His brow in that deathful struggle looked to them like\ngouts of blood, and yet the burden of those broken murmurs in which He\npleaded with His Heavenly Father had been ever this, \"If it be\npossible,--yet not what I will, but what Thou wilt.\"\n\nWhat is the meaning, my beloved sister, of this scene for us? What was\nthe cause of this midnight hour? Do you think that it was the fear of\ndeath, and that that was sufficient to shake to its utmost center the\npure and innocent soul of the Son of Man? Could not even a child see\nhow inconsistent such a fear would be with all that followed;--with\nthat heroic fortitude which fifteen consecutive hours of sleepless\nagony could not disturb;--with that majestic silence which overawed\neven the hard Roman into respect and fear;--with that sovereign\nascendency of soul which flung open the golden gate of Paradise to the\nrepentant malefactor, and breathed its compassionate forgiveness on\nthe apostate priest? Could He have been afraid of death, in whose\nname, and in whose strength, and for whose sake alone, trembling old\nmen, and feeble maidens, and timid boys have faced it in its worst\nform without a shudder or a sigh? My friend, the dread of the mere act\nof dying is a cowardice so abject that the meanest passions of the\nmind can master it, and many a coarse criminal has advanced to meet\nhis end with unflinching confidence and steady step. And Jesus knew,\nif any have ever known, that it is as natural to die as to be\nborn,--that it is the great birthright of all who love God;--that it\nis God who giveth His beloved sleep. The sting of death--and its only\nsting--is sin; the victory of the grave--and its only victory--is\ncorruption. And Jesus knew no sin, saw no corruption. No, that which\nstained His forehead with crimson drops was something far deadlier\nthan death. Though sinless He was suffering for sin. The burden and\nthe mystery of man's strange and revolting wickedness lay heavy on His\nsoul; and with holy lips He was draining the bitter cup into which sin\nhad infused its deadliest poison. Could perfect innocence endure\nwithout a shudder all that is detestable in human ingratitude and\nhuman rage? Should there be no recoil of horror in the bosom of\nperfect love to see His own,--for whom he came,--absorbed in one\ninsane repulsion against infinite purity and tenderness and peace? It\nwas a willing agony, but it was agony; it was endured for our sakes;\nthe Son of God suffered that He might through suffering become perfect\nin infinite sympathy as a Savior strong to save.\n\nAnd on all the full mysterious meaning of that agony and bloody sweat\nit would be impossible now to dwell, but may we not for a short time\ndwell with profit--may not every one whose heart--being free from the\nfever of passion, and unfretted by the pettiness of pride--is calm and\nmeek and reverent enough to listen to the messages of God, even be\nthey spoken by the feeblest of human lips,--may we not all, I say,\nlearn something from this fragment of that thrilling story\nthat--\"being in an agony, He prayed\"?\n\n    \"The chosen three, on mountain height,\n      While Jesus bowed in prayer,\n    Beheld His vesture glow with light,\n      His face shine wondrous fair.\"\n\nTo every one of us, I suppose, sooner or later the Gethsemane of life\nmust come. It may be the Gethsemane of struggle, and poverty and\ncare;--it may be the Gethsemane of long and weary sickness;--it may be\nthe Gethsemane of farewells that wring the heart by the deathbeds of\nthose we love;--it may be the Gethsemane of remorse, and of well-nigh\ndespair, for sins that we will not--but which we say we\ncannot--overcome. Well, my dearest sister, in that Gethsemane--aye,\neven in that Gethsemane of sin--no angel merely,--but Christ Himself\nwho bore the burden of our sins,--will, if we seek Him, come to\ncomfort us. He will, if being in agony, we pray. He can be touched, He\nis touched, with the feeling of our infirmities. He, too, has trodden\nthe winepress of agony alone; He, too, has lain face downwards in the\nnight upon the ground; and the comfort which then came to Him He has\nbequeathed to us--even the comfort, the help, the peace, the recovery,\nthe light, the hope, the faith, the sustaining arm, the healing\nanodyne of prayer. It is indeed a natural comfort--and one to which\nthe Christian at least flies instinctively. When the water-floods\ndrown us,--when all God's waves and storms seem to be beating over our\nsouls,--when \"Calamity comes like a deluge, and o'erfloods our crimes\ntill sin is hidden in sorrow\"--oh, then, if we have not wholly\nquenched all spiritual life within us, what can we do but fling\nourselves at the foot of those great altar stairs that slope through\ndarkness to God? Yes, being in an agony, we pray; and the talisman\nagainst every agony is there.\n\nAnd herein lies the great mercy and love of God, that we may go to\nHim in our agony even if we have never gone before. Oh, if prayer were\npossible only for the always good and always true, possible only for\nthose who have never forsaken or forgotten God,--if it were not\npossible for sinners and penitents and those who have gone\nastray,--then of how infinitely less significance would it be for\nsinful and fallen man! But our God is a God of Love, a God of Mercy.\nHe is very good to us. The soul may come bitter and disappointed, with\nnothing left to offer Him but the dregs of a misspent life;--the soul\nmay come, like that sad Prodigal, weary and broken, and shivering, and\nin rags; but if it only come--the merciful door is open still, and\nwhile yet we are a great way off our Father will meet and forgive and\ncomfort us. And then what a change is there in our lives! They are\nweak no longer; they are discontented no longer; they are the slaves\nof sin no longer. You have seen the heavens gray with dull and\nleaden-colored clouds, you have seen the earth chilly and comfortless\nunder its drifts of unmelting snow: but let the sun shine, and then\nhow rapidly does the sky resume its radiant blue, and the fields laugh\nwith green grass and vernal flower! So will it be with even a withered\nand a wasted life when we return to God and suffer Him to send His\nbright beams of light upon our heart. I do not mean that the pain or\nmisery under which we are suffering will necessarily be removed,--even\nfor Christ it was not so; but peace will come and strength will come\nand resignation will come and hope will come,--and we shall feel able\nto bear anything which God shall send, and though He slays us we still\nshall seek Him, and even if the blackest cloud of anguish seem to\nshroud His face from us, even on that cloud shall the rainbow shine.\n\nYou do not think, my sister, that because God never rejects the prayer\nof sinner or sufferer, that therefore we may go on sinning, trusting\nto repent when we suffer. That would be a shameful abuse of God's\nmercy and tenderness; it would be a frame of mind which would need\nthis solemn warning, that agony by no means always leads to prayer;\nthat it may come when prayer is possible no longer to the\nlong-hardened and long-prayerless soul. I know no hope so senseless,\nso utterly frustrated by all experience, as the hope of what is called\ndeathbed repentance. Those who are familiar with many deathbeds will\ntell you why. But prayer--God's blessed permission to us, to see Him\nand to know Him, and to trust in Him--_that_ is granted us not for the\nhours of death or agony alone, but for all life, almost from the very\ncradle quite to the very grave. And it is a gift no less priceless for\nits alleviation of sorrow than for its intensification of all innocent\njoy. For him who would live a true life it is as necessary in\nprosperity as in adversity,--in peace as in trouble,--in youth as in\nold age. Here, too, Christ is our example. He lived, as we may live,\nin the light of His Father's face. It was not only as the Man of\nSorrows, it was not only in the moonlit garden of His agony, or on the\ndarkening hills of His incessant toil, that prayer had refreshed His\nsoul; but often during those long unknown years in the little Galilean\nvillage,--daily, and from childhood upwards, in sweet hours of peace,\nkneeling amid the mountain lilies or on the cottage floor. Those\nprayers are to the soul what the dew of God is to the flowers of the\nfield; the burning wind of the day may pass over them, and the stems\ndroop and the colors fade, but when the dew steals down at evening,\nthey will revive. Why should not that gracious dew fall even now and\nalways for all of us upon the fields of life? A life which has been\nfrom the first a life of prayer,--a life which has thus from its\nearliest days looked up consciously to its Father and its God,--will\nalways be a happy life. Time may fleet, and youth may fade,--as they\nwill, and there may be storm as well as sunshine in the earthly\ncareer; yet it will inevitably be a happy career, and with a happiness\nthat cannot die. Yes, this is the lesson which I would that we all\nmight learn from the thought of Christ in the garden of\nGethsemane;--the lesson that Prayer may recall the sunshine even to\nthe dark and the frozen heart; but that there is no long winter, there\nis no unbroken night, to that soul on which the Sun of Righteousness\nhas risen with healing in His wings.\n\nAnd that because true prayer is always heard. We read in the glorious\nold Greek poet of prayers which, before they reached the portals of\nheaven were scattered by the winds; and indeed there are some prayers\nso deeply opposed to the will of God, so utterly alien to the true\ninterests of men, that nothing could happen better for us than that\nGod should refuse, nothing more terrible than that He should grant\nthem in anger. So that if we pray for any earthly blessing we may pray\nfor it solely \"if it be God's will\"; \"if it be for our highest good,\"\nbut, for all the best things we may pray without misgiving, without\nreservation, certain that if we ask God will grant them. Nay, even in\nasking for them we may know that we have them,--for what we desire to\nask, and what we ask, we aim at, and what we aim at we shall attain.\nNo man ever yet asked to be, as the days pass by, more noble, and\nsweet, and pure, and heavenly-minded,--no man ever yet prayed that the\nevil spirits of hatred, and pride, and passion, and worldliness, might\nbe cast out of his soul,--without his petition being granted, and\ngranted to the letter. And with all other gifts God then gives us His\nown self besides,--He makes us know Him, and love Him, and live in\nHim. \"Thou hast written well of me,\" said the Vision to the great\nteacher of Aquinum, \"what reward dost thou desire?\" \"Non aliam, nisi\nte Domine\"--\"no other than Thyself, O Lord,\" was the meek and rapt\nreply. And when all our restless, fretful, discontented longings are\nreduced to this alone, the desire to see God's face;--when we have\nnone in Heaven but Him, and none upon earth whom we desire in\ncomparison of Him;--then we are indeed happy beyond the reach of any\nevil thing, for then we have but one absorbing wish, and that wish\ncannot be refused. Least of all can it be refused when it has pleased\nGod to afflict us.\n\n\"Ye now have sorrow,\" said Christ, \"but I will see you again, and your\nheart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you.\" Yes, when\nGod's children pass under the shadows of the Cross of Calvary they\nknow that through that shadow lies their passage to the Great White\nThrone. For them Gethsemane is as Paradise. God fills it with sacred\npresences; its solemn silence is broken by the music of tender\npromises; its awful darkness softened and brightened by the sunlight\nof heavenly faces, and the music of angel wings.\n\n    \"I am baptized into thy name,\n      O Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!\n    Among thy seed a place I claim,\n      Among thy consecrated host;\n    Buried with Christ and dead to sin,\n      Thy Spirit now shall live within.\"\n\n\"And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent the Son to be\nthe Savior of the world.\"\n\n                  Your Brother in Christ,\n\n                                                            L. J.\n\n\n\n\n                              DIRECTORY\n                                 OF\n                PENITENTIARIES, STATE REFORM SCHOOLS,\n                    STATE INDUSTRIAL REFORMATORIES,\n                      ETC., OF THE UNITED STATES\n                             AND CANADA.\n\n\n                       UNITED STATES PRISONS.\n\nUnited States Penitentiary, Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.\n\nUnited States Penitentiary, Atlanta, Georgia.\n\nUnited States Penitentiary, McNeil Island, Washington.\n\nUnited States jails in the Indian Territory: Vinita, Muskogee, South\nMcAlester and Ardmore.\n\nUnited States Jail, Fort Smith, Arkansas.\n\nUnited States Jail, Guthrie, Oklahoma.\n\nDISTRICT OF COLUMBIA.--District Jail, Reform School, and Reform School\nfor Girls, Washington.\n\nThere are several small United States jails in Alaska and within the\nStates occupying rented quarters.\n\n\n                        STATE INSTITUTIONS.\n\nALABAMA.--Penitentiary, Wetumpka; two prisons at Pratt Mines. Boys'\nIndustrial School, East Lake.\n\nARIZONA.--Territorial Prison, Yuma.\n\nARKANSAS.--Penitentiary, Little Rock.\n\nCALIFORNIA.--Prisons, Folsom and San Quentin. State Schools, Whittier\nand Ione.\n\nCOLORADO.--Penitentiary, Canon City. Reformatory, Buena Vista. Reform\nSchool for Girls, Denver. Industrial School for Girls, Morrison.\nIndustrial School for Boys, Golden.\n\nCONNECTICUT.--Prison, Weathersfield. Reform School, Meridan.\nIndustrial School for Girls, Middletown.\n\nDELAWARE.--Ferris Industrial School and Industrial School for Girls,\nWilmington.\n\nFLORIDA.--Stockade Camps (13 in 1900). Prisoners farmed out, mining\nphosphate. Reform School, Marianna.\n\nGEORGIA.--Woman's Prison, Milledgville. Stockades at mines and farms;\nprisoners leased.\n\nIDAHO.--Penitentiary, Boise City.\n\nILLINOIS.--Penitentiaries, Joliet, Chester. Reformatory, Pontiac.\nIndustrial School for Girls, South Evanston. Home for Female\nOffenders, Geneva. Erring Woman's Refuge, Chicago.\n\nINDIANA.--Prisons, Jeffersonville, Michigan City. Woman's Prison, and\nReform School for Girls, Indianapolis. Reform School for Boys,\nPlainfield.\n\nIOWA.--Penitentiaries, Fort Madison, Animosa. Industrial Schools:\nBoys, Eldora; Girls, Mitchelville.\n\nKANSAS.--Penitentiary, Lansing. Reform School, Topeka. Industrial\nReformatory, Hutchinson. Industrial School for Girls, Beloit.\n\nKENTUCKY.--Penitentiaries, Frankfort, Eddyville. Reform School,\nLexington. Industrial School of Reform, Louisville.\n\nLOUISIANA.--Penitentiary, Baton Rouge. Boys' House of Refuge, New\nOrleans.\n\nMAINE.--Prison, Thomaston. Reform School, South Portland. Industrial\nSchool for Girls, Hallowell.\n\nMARYLAND.--Penitentiary, Baltimore. House of Refuge for Boys, Female\nHouse of Refuge, and St. Mary's Industrial School, Baltimore.\nIndustrial Home for Colored Girls, Melvale. House of Reformation for\nColored Boys, Cheltenham.\n\nMASSACHUSETTS.--Prison, Charlestown. Reformatory, Concord. Reformatory\nPrison for Women, Sherborn. Industrial School for Girls, Lancaster.\nLyman School for Boys, Westboro. State Primary School, Monson.\n\nMICHIGAN.--Prison, Jackson. Branch prison and House of Correction,\nMarquette. House of Correction and Reformatory, Ionia. Industrial\nSchool for Boys, Lansing. Industrial Home for Girls, Adrian.\n\nMINNESOTA.--Prison, Stillwater. Reformatory (for 16 to 30 years old),\nSt. Cloud. State Training School, Redwing.\n\nMISSISSIPPI.--Penitentiary, Jackson. Farms.\n\nMISSOURI.--Penitentiary, Jefferson City. Reform School for Boys,\nBoonville. Industrial Home for Girls, Chillicothe. House of Refuge,\nSt. Louis.\n\nMONTANA.--Prisons, Deer Lodge, Billings. Reform School, Miles City.\n\nNEBRASKA.--Penitentiary, Lincoln. Industrial School for Boys, Kearney.\nIndustrial School for Girls, Geneva.\n\nNEVADA.--Prison, Carson City.\n\nNEW HAMPSHIRE.--Prison, Concord. Industrial School, Manchester.\n\nNEW JERSEY.--Prison and Industrial School for Girls, Trenton. Reform\nSchool, Jamesburg.\n\nNEW MEXICO.--Penitentiary, Santa Fe.\n\nNEW YORK.--Prisons, Sing Sing, Auburn (also one for women).\nReformatories, Elmira; Ellensville; Bedford. Institutions also at New\nYork, Buffalo, Rochester, Syracuse, Hudson and Albion.\n\nNORTH CAROLINA.--Penitentiary, Raleigh. Prisoners mostly on State\nFarms.\n\nNORTH DAKOTA.--Penitentiary, Bismark.\n\nOHIO.--Penitentiary, Columbus. Reformatory, Mansfield. Industrial\nSchool, Boys, Lancaster; Girls, Delaware. House of Refuge, Cincinnati.\n\nOREGON.--Penitentiary, Reform School, Salem.\n\nPENNSYLVANIA.--Penitentiaries, Philadelphia, Allegheny. Industrial\nReformatory, Huntingdon. Reform School, Morganza. House of\nCorrection, Philadelphia. House of Refuge, Glen Mills.\n\nRHODE ISLAND.--Prison, Work House and House of Correction,\nSockanosset. School for Boys, and Oaklawn School for Girls, Howard.\n\nSOUTH CAROLINA.--Penitentiary, Columbia. State Farms.\n\nSOUTH DAKOTA.--Penitentiary, Sioux Falls. Reform School, Plankinton.\n\nTENNESSEE.--Penitentiaries, Nashville, Petros. Industrial School,\nNashville.\n\nTEXAS.--Penitentiaries, Huntsville, Rusk. House of Correction and\nReformatory, Gatesville.\n\nUTAH.--Penitentiary, Salt Lake City. Reform School, Ogden.\n\nVERMONT.--Prison, Windsor. House of Correction, Rutland. Industrial\nSchool, Vergenes.\n\nVIRGINIA.--Penitentiary, Richmond. Laurel Industrial School, Glen\nAllen.\n\nWASHINGTON.--Penitentiary, Walla Walla. Reform School, Chehalis.\n\nWEST VIRGINIA.--Penitentiary, Moundsville. Reform School for Boys,\nPruntytown. Girls' Industrial School, Salem.\n\nWISCONSIN.--Prison, Waupun. Reformatory, near Green Bay. Industrial\nSchool for Boys, Waukesha. For Girls and Boys, Milwaukee.\n\nWYOMING.--Penitentiary, Rawlins.\n\n\n                           PRISONS IN CANADA.\n\nPenitentiaries or Prisons, Kingston, Toronto, St. Vincent de Paul,\nDorchester, New Westminster, and Stony Mountain.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"_IT WILL STIR THE SOUL._\"\n\nA NEW AND WONDERFUL BOOK.\n\nOLD-TIME RELIGION.\n\nBY REV. S. B. SHAW.\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Illustration: Old Time Religion book cover]\n\nIncluding an account of the Greatest Revivals since Pentecostal Days,\nand telling how to bring about an old time revival. Also recording\nmany remarkable answers to prayer.\n\n\nMAKE MONEY AND DO GOOD\n\nBy selling good books that the people want. The first edition of\n10,000 copies of this new book is already selling rapidly and is doing\ngreat good. It will attract both saint and sinner. Some of the old\ntime sermons that moved the multitudes toward God, like men slain in\nbattle, until their cries seemed to rend the very heavens, are\nrecorded in this book. The description of sin and depravity, of hell\nand the judgment, by such men as Edwards, Bunyan, Fletcher, Whitfield,\nFinney, Caughey, Finley, and many others, will waken the slumbering\nconscience and reveal the wrath of God against sin and this evil\ngeneration.\n\n\nFROM TESTIMONIALS RECEIVED, WE SELECT A FEW.\n\n     =Michigan Presbyterian:= \"A mine of gold. Thoroughly practical.\n     Intensely interesting. It will stir the soul.\"\n\n     =The Way of Faith:= \"In this timely book the author discusses 'Old\n     Time Views of Sin and Depravity,' 'Old Time Conviction and\n     Repentance,' 'Old Time Conversion,' and so on through ten\n     chapters. Old time revivals are described and incidents related\n     which are calculated to thrill the reader and beget a longing\n     desire for the return of the Old Time Revival Power.\"\n\n     =Bishop N. Castle:= \"It surely has the old time swing. It is rich\n     in sentiment, thrilling, heart-inspiring. It certainly will have\n     a large sale.\"\n\n     =The Free Methodist:= \"An excellent compilation of facts in\n     connection with old time revivals and contains much solid truth\n     respecting old time repentance, conversion, and righteousness.\n     The author quotes from 'Fletcher's Appeal,' Bunyan's 'Pilgrim's\n     Progress,' James B. Finley, James Caughey, and other noted 'old\n     time' writers and evangelists. The work is full of interest and\n     can but do good. We bespeak for it a large sale.\"\n\n     =Religious Telescope:= \"'The Old-Time Religion,' by S. B. SHAW, is\n     a new book, which is a revelation of the awful corruption of sin\n     and of the mighty transforming power of the grace of God. Other\n     books by the same author have had a sale of nearly a HALF MILLION\n     copies, and we consider this book fully equal, if not superior,\n     to any of them.\"\n\n320 PAGES, 5 BY 8 INCHES.\n\nPrice, per copy, post-paid: Cloth, $1.00; Paper, 35 cents.\n\nBe early in the field. Secure a copy of the book. It will be all the\noutfit needed. Write us at once for terms to agents.\n\n  S. B. SHAW, Publisher,\n\n  212 West Chicago Avenue, CHICAGO, ILL.\n\n[Illustration: Ad Page]\n\nRELIGIOUS BOOKS\n\nTHAT STIR THE SOUL\n\n\n\nBooks worth having. Books that record facts. Books that do good and\npermanent good. Books that reveal heaven and hell. Books that melt\nhearts to tears. Books that awaken conviction and WIN SOULS. Books\nthat people love NEXT TO THEIR BIBLES. See list below.\n\nHALF MILLION SOLD\n\nALL BOOKS ARE UNIFORM IN SIZE. 5 x 8 INCHES\n\n=The Great Revival in Wales=, Shaw. Compiled, Concise, Complete.\nIncludes full account of Great Revival in Ireland in 1859. In great\ndemand 256 pages.\n\n  Cloth 75c Paper 25c\n\n=Miracles in the Slums=, Rees. Timely, True, Touching, Rightly named. 40\nillustrations. Selling fast. 304 pages. Cloth $1.00\n\n=Spiritual Flashlights=, Perry. New, Neat, Nothing like it. Selected\nfrom hundreds of writers. 153 topics. Alphabetically arranged. 408\npages. Cloth $1.00\n\n=Old Time Religion=, Shaw. Primitive, Pathetic, Powerful. Contains\naccounts of greatest revivals since Pentecost. Stirs hearts, wins\nsouls, and will help to bring about an old time revival. 288 pages.\n\n  Cloth $1.00 paper 35c\n\n=Wayside Sketches=, Cooke. Bright, Bracing, Biographical. 28\nillustrations. 382 pages. Cloth $1.00\n\n=Touching Incidents and Remarkable Answers to Prayer=, Shaw. Attractive,\nAbsorbing, Authentic. 300,000 sold. 320 pages.\n\n  Cloth $1.00 Paper 35c\n\n=Children's Edition of Touching Incidents=, Shaw. 42 illustrations. 128\npages. 125,000 sold.\n\n  Cloth 60c Board 35c\n\n=Dying Testimonies of Saved and Un-Saved=, Shaw. True, Thrilling,\nTriumphant. 160,000 sold. 320 pages.\n\n  Cloth $1.00 Paper 35c\n\n=The Men Behind the Bars=, Sanders. Interesting, Instructive,\nIllustrated. 320 pages. Cloth $1.00\n\n=God's Financial Plan=, Shaw. Searching, Scriptural, Spiritual. Largest\nsale of any book of its theme ever published. 320 pages.\n\n  Cloth $1.00 Paper 35c\n\n=Traits of Character=, Kletzing. Elevating, Entertaining, Excellent. 180\nillustrations. Cloth $1.00\n\n  Any =FOUR= of the above books sent POST PAID to one address,\n\n  Cloth $3.00 Paper $1.10\n\n  Any THREE of the above books sent =POST PAID= to one address,\n\n  Cloth $2.50 Paper 90c\n\n\nONE THOUSAND AGENTS WANTED\n\nWRITE FOR TERMS AND LARGE ILLUSTRATED CATALOGUE\n\n  Address, S. B. SHAW, Publisher,\n\n  212-214 W. Chicago Avenue, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\nPage xviii: In the table of contents for CHAPTER XI., the transcriber\nhas changed the incorrect page number 88 to 87.\n\nPage xix: In the table of contents the words \"CHAPTER XVIII\" are\nmissing and have been added by the transcriber.\n\nPage 169: \"who was chosen of God as the agent\". The transcriber has\ninserted the word \"as\" where a blank space occurred.\n\nText enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).\n\nText enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).\n\nSmall capital text has been replaced with all capitals.\n\nVariations in spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been retained\nexcept in obvious cases of typographical error.","title":"Prisons and Prayer; Or, a Labor of Love","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":189061}